The Tales of the 2nd Cavalry
by CAVALRYMAN1863
Summary: Here they are, the .50 Cents a Day professionals, the Dog-Faced Soldiers in Dirty Shirt Blue, that fight at the frontier outposts in the Southwest, from Fort Sheridan to Fort Starke, and from Fort Grant to Fort Apache. The Sun and the Moon may change, but the Army knows no seasons for these troopers of the United States Second Cavalry. Based on John Ford's Cavalry Trilogy. (Hiatus)
1. War is Hell

It was April of 1863, the entire Army of the Potomac was under the command of General Joseph 'Fighting Joe' Hooker, and they were camped in the Wilderness in Virginia, near Chancellorsville, 'B' Company of the U.S Second Cavalry was ordered to a ridge in Northern Virginia called Tennessee Ridge, which was on the Virginia side of the Virginia and Tennessee Border, hence its name, the company commander Captain George McCord was ordered by Captain Wesley Merritt to wait for the rest of the Brigade under General John Buford to hold the position. Thomas Carter Reynolds was the company Sergeant-Major who was a good soldier and was good friends with every soldier in the company, he was once the company Guidon Bearer, promoted because the Sergeant-Major before him was killed by a sharpshooter during the Peninsula Campaign in 1862. But this would be a day like no other for his company, and his friends in the company would suffer greatly that day because of one cowardly officer.

The men of 'B' Company were trotting down a dirt road with Captain McCord at the front of the column with the other officers and Sergeant-Major Reynolds next to his friend Sergeant Timothy Quincannon. "How long you think until Bobby Lee surrenders after this one?" Asked Sergeant Quincannon. "I figure a few days once 'Fighting Joe' beats his army." Replied the Sergeant-Major, he two laughed when Sergeant O'Ryan came up to talk. "Say, Sarge?" Thomas looked over at his friend. "What is it O'Ryan?" The younger Line Sergeant looked forward then back at the Sergeant-Major. "Tell me again why Captain Merritt decided to make us go up to Tennessee Ridge, we'll be riding back to Falmouth in a few days with the rest of the Brigade, so what's the point of all this?" Reynolds thought for a moment "Simple, that West Point wonder of an officer, wants to have one last engagement on his record before the war ends." They laughed, but just then, the company scout Corporal Fletcher galloped frantically over to Captain McCord. "Captain sir." The Captain called a halt to the advance. "What is it, Fletcher?" The Corporal panted frantically as he tried to speak. "The Rebs are ma..." He couldn't finish his sentence because he was shot right through the chest. The Captain saw this and took an immediate course of action. "FIRST PLATOON TO THE RIGHT, SECOND PLATOON TO THE LEFT, DISMOUNT,AND FIGHT ON FOOT!" The individual Platoons were commanded by one of two Lieutenant's, Lieutenant Middleton commanded Second Platoon, and Lieutenant Storm was in command of First Platoon, Sergeant-Major Reynolds' platoon.

The men formed battle lines behind rocks and fallen trees, their targets were the men in grey approaching them, but the Rebels were armed with muzzle loading shotguns, and musketoons and some carbines while the Union troopers were armed with Sharps Carbines. They fired on the approaching Rebels, it wasn't something that was new to them, that one company had been to Fredericksburg and other battles which involved the U.S Second Cavalry, and now Cavalry operations to cut Confederate supplies in Virginia. One advantage the cavalrymen always exploited was the fact they had breech-loading Carbines and could almost triple the fire of muzzle-loaders. The Sergeant-Major dismounted and joined two other Line Sergeants, he and his friends Sergeant Mulcahy, Sergeant O'Ryan, and Sergeant Quincannon were four great friends in 'B' Company. They were called the four Irish Sergeants since their families had all come from Ireland back during the days of 1776. Now they were fighting in their nation's greatest test to keep it a whole nation.

The men quickly dismounted, they spread out along the rocks and the underbrush, they quickly got their Carbines from their slings and watched and waited as the Rebels advanced in a line of battle towards them. Soon, the Stars and Bars of the Confederate Battle Colors blew in the wind as they appeared, soon, a long line of Graybacks approached, dismounted Cavalry, from the 1st Virginia. The men waited until they were four hundred yards from their position before they opened fire, once the Rebels finally closed the distance, the seasoned veteran cavalrymen carbine's crackled like a legion of rifles. The men began to fire at will as they hugged the ground, managing to avoid the majority of the fire of the Rebels. The left and center were holding strong under the Confederate attacks, but the right flank was in the air because Lieutenant Middleton was a by the book officer that didn't know a fight if he read it in one of his West Point books.

Lieutenant Middleton was sweating bullets, he was nervous and scared of what was happening, he couldn't bring himself to bring up his pistol and shoot the Rebels. Sergeant Mulcahy came over to him with his Sharps in one hand and shook the Lieutenant out oh his trance. "Lieutenant Sir, are you alright." Middleton looked at the Sergeant, with a panicked look in his eyes and sweat pouring down his face. "We're surrounded Sergeant, WE'RE SURROUNDED, WE'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!" The Lieutenant ran for his horse, he mounted up and rode like the wind away from the battle. After seeing that, the other enlisted men started to do the same, they believed the Lieutenant that they were surrounded and started to get on their horses to leave. Despite trying to stop the other troopers from fleeing, Sergeant Mulcahy wasn't able to, so he ran over to the position of First Platoon to tell Sergeant-Major Reynolds. "Tom, TOM!" The Sergeant-Major turned to see who was shouting his first name when he saw Mulcahy galloping on his horse towards them. "What is it Festus?" The middle-aged Line Sergeant dismounted and appeared out of breath. "Lieutenant Middleton has lashed out." he wheezed, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was in shock. "HE WHAT?! NOW THE RIGHT IS IN THE AIR!" The Sergeant had to think of something fast, then it came to him. "QUINCANNON, O'RYAN, GET YOUR CARCASSES OVER HERE, ON THE DOUBLE!" The two of them ran over to Sergeant-Major Reynolds. "What is it Tom?" "Yeah, what's wrong."Asked O'Ryan and Quincannon respectfully. "Lieutenant Middleton has run off with the majority of Second Platoon." Stated the Sergeant-Major dryly, the two other Sergeants were in shock and disgusted. "Why the coward." "He's a disgrace to the uniform." Thomas quieted down the rowdy troopers. "Alright, calm down, the lot of you, now the four of us will secure the right." Mulcahy was in a slight bit of surprise. "Just us?" Tom nodded. "Just us, Festus, if we get out of this fight, we'll see about Lieutenant Middleton."

The four of them got up and rushed about 700 yards to the right, they saw some Reb skirmishers heading up, and knew that the rest of their force was behind them, so the four Sergeants got on their bellies and opened fire with their Sharps Carbines. They kept firing into the Reb ranks from different positions, making them think there was plenty of men there to stem the tide of their advance. The four veterans blazed away at the Johnnies, their Carbines made them think that they had the strength of a full Company. The line of the Confederate troopers had several holes in it where their men used to stand, the Rebs hit the ground, making themselves harder to see, but the four men shooting at them had the advantage of looking down their throats. The Graybacks started to retreat in order, but an officer got up and tried to rally his demoralized men. Thomas looked down his gunsight and got the gray-clad officer right between the eyes. That had done it, soon the Confederates ended up breaking their ranks and running towards the base of the ridge in retreat. It turned from a fighting retreat to a disorganized rout, the four Sergeants got up and cheered. "LOOK AT THEM RUN!" "There running like Jack Rabbits." "They won't mess with us anymore." Sergeant-Major Reynolds began to quiet down "Good work lads, let's get back and report to Captain McCord." The men jogged back to where the rest of the company was holding, but when they got up there, the rest of them were all dead.

They looked at the bodies of their comrades in arms, names like Allen, Moore, Harrington, Lewis, King, Baker, Roberts, Turner, and Young were staring at them with cold dead eyes. Sergeant O'Ryan found the body of Lieutenant Storm near the company guidon and was in shock, they all wandered the sea of soldiers in dirty shirt blue. But Sergeant-Major Reyolds found the dying body of Captain McCord. "Captain!" The Sergeant ran over and knelt next to his commander. "W-Where were y-you S-Sergeant-M-Major?" Sergeant-Major Reynolds reached for the Captain's arm and checked his pulse, it was getting weaker by the second. "On the right sir, Lieutenant Middleton had pulled back. So me, Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon went to see what we could do to stop them sir, and we did." The Captain looked up at the face of the Sergeant-Major. "G-good man, Middleton was always a bit of a..." The Captain stopped in the middle of the word, he had died right next in front of the young Sergeant-Major, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was lost for words, he couldn't cry, yell, talk, or breath even. It was as if every sense of reality just left and he was simply no where in the world at that point. He was adrift in a see of blood from what happened to his Company, he felt as though it was his fault.

Sergeant Mulcahy went over to him and put his hand on his shoulder, and gave him a somber smile, he patted the Sergeant-Major on the shoulder and got him up. The Sergeant looked down at his commanding officer and gave him a salute. "Rest well sir." He then turned to Sergeant Mulcahy. "We'll go back to camp and if we see the Squadron Commander, we'll tell him what happened, then hopefully we can bring a burial detail." The men then went over to their horses, that managed not to be captured by the Confederates and grabbed the Company Guidon to bring back.

Later

They four Sergeant rode into camp near Charlottesville in Northern Virginia, they first went over to the tent of their Squadron Commander, Captain Clermont, to report what happened on Tennessee Ridge. The Sergeant-Major stepped into the tent and saluted the Major, who returned it, he was puzzled to see Reynolds and not McCord "Captain, do you have a moment?" The Major opened his mouth to speak. "What is it Sergeant-Major, where's Captain McCord?" The Sergeant-Major "Is Lieutenant Middleton here?" Now the Captain was even more puzzled "Yes, he's here with his platoon, but Reynolds, where's the Captain?" Tom looked down at his boots. "He's dead sir, and Lieutenant Middleton abandoned the right, so we were overpowered in the center and on the left, leaving everybody dead except me, Sergeant Mulcahy, Sergeant Quincannon, and Sergeant O'Ryan. Sir." The Captain was confused, and in awe, he didn't expect the Sergeant-Major to say that. "Are you sure Sergeant?" Thomas nodded. "Died right in front of me sir, with your permission, I would like to lead back a burial detail back." The Squadron Commander shook his head "Request denied Sergeant-Major, I'll take the detail, you and the other Sergeants go arrest Lieutenant Middleton, I'll report this to General Buford up at Headquarters." The Sergeant smirked when he heard he was to arrest Lieutenant Middleton, he had been a pain in the rear of the Company since he was given command of the 1st Platoon of 'B' Company. "Yes, sir." He saluted his superior and walked out of the tent. The other three Sergeants were waiting outside for him with smiles on their faces. "What are the three of you smiling at?" Sergeant Mulcahy stepped forward. "Sidearms or Carbines Tom?" The Young Sergeant-Major smirked again and looked at the other two Sergeants. "Sidearms, Colts already drawn and cocked, Lieutenant Middleton is not going to put up a fight, but you never know." The four Sergeants did pull out their sidearms and then went marching over to the Lieutenant's tent, when they arrived, Sergeant-Major Reynolds huddled with the other three Sergeants to discuss the tactics of bringing the Lieutenant along peaceably, Thomas turned to the others. "Alright, I'll go in, but if you hear any shooting, come in fast." The Sergeant then walked into the Lieutenant's tent and saw him looking at some maps on the table. "Lieutenant Middleton." The Lieutenant turned to the Sergeant-Major "Yes Sergeant-Major?" Even though the Sergeant-Major had on a straight face, he seethed with hatred for the coward in front of him. "Under the order of the Squadron Commander sir, your being placed under arrest." The Lieutenant shot up from his position of looking at the maps and turned to face the Sergeant. "On what charges?" Thomas was surprised the Lieutenant was still keeping up with the act. "Desertion in the face of the Enemy, and Cowardice. Are you coming peaceably?" The Lieutenant didn't argue, he grabbed his saber and his kepi with crossed sabers. "Well, I don't see how I can do anything here, I'll have this mess sorted out in no time, and then I'll command the Company as it should." The Sergeant-Major merely looked at the Lieutenant. "I wouldn't bet on it Lieutenant."

And the Lieutenant didn't, when Captain Clermont returned with the burial detail, he arranged for the court-martial of the lieutenant at the earliest moment to General Buford for the General Court-Martial. The Lieutenant was found guilty of his accused crimes and was dishonorably discharged from the service, and drummed out of the army a coward. On May 17th of 1863, Lieutenant Middleton was escorted to the front of the Regiment in his dress uniform when Captain Clermont approached him and read a piece of paper out loud. The men of the Regiment sat silently in their saddles as the Middle-aged Squadron Commander read the finding of the court and sentence. "Lieutenant James Middleton, you have been found guilty of violating the 52nd Article of War, running away and abandoning your post in the face of the enemy, you are warned you are liable to the death penalty, if you should trespass upon any military post or reservation, HENCEFORTH!" He rolled up the paper and put it in his coat. He threw off the kepi of the ex-Lieutenant, then proceeded to rip off his shoulder boards and all the buttons from his jacket, and lastly, the Major pulled the ex-Lieutenant's saber out of its scabbard and proceeded to break it in half and throw it on the ground, as well as remove his belt with the scabbard and have it fall to the ground. What was left of the First Platoon of Company 'B' watched with pleasure as he was branded a coward, they thought that the Lieutenant deserved nothing less than this. Soon, after the Major walked away, they were ordered to march out, they paraded past the dishonorably discharged officer and scowled at him, the Lieutenant eyed the Sergeant-Major in particular, giving a look of hate and remorse for the Non-Commissioned Officer, all Sergeant-Major Reynolds did was scowl and he trotted by on his mount.

Two Years Later

On April 9th, 1865, General Grant had accepted the surrender of General Lee at Appomattox Courthouse, but only five days later, President Lincoln had been assassinated at Ford's theater by John Wilkes Booth. The Union Army of the Potomac was being disbanded, and the units in the Regular Army were being redeployed to their posts on the frontier. Sergeant-Major Reynolds, Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon were in their tent within their regiment's camp at Fairfax Courthouse shining their boots, they had decided to stay in the army. With many different officers take command 'B' Company, the original 100 officers and enlisted men were now 51 enlisted men, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was in charge since he was the senior Non-commissioned officer of the company. He was relatively tall at 6'0 with dark black hair and a clean shaven face, he wore a regular cavalry uniform and wore a black stetson with a yellow hat cord he was given from a friend during Christmas of '61. For his action at Gettysburg, for saving a artillery crew and rallying and leading the remainder of the men in his company, he received the Medal of Honor from President Lincoln himself for actions above and beyond the call of duty, when he heard that the President was killed, he was in his tent alone, the others didn't know he was crying his eyes out. He didn't think he deserved the medal in the first place, but he hid his feelings from his friends. After Tennessee Ridge, he fought at Brandy Station, Aldie, and was with General Buford holding ground in Gettysburg for General John Reynolds and 1st Corps. Now, after a short leave and visiting his brother and close friend back in Brooklyn, he was in a camp in Fairfax Courthouse, Virginia waiting for reassignment, "I don't know how you talked us into it, Tom, but you did, now were with what's left of the Original 100 men of 'B' Company and were heading west." Sergeant-Major Reynolds grinned a cocky grin "It's for the sake of adventure Festus, what would you be doing back in Brooklyn?" O'Ryan spoke up. "Probably getting drunk off his rear end and tear up Ol'Fitzgerald's Bar." The four of them let out a hearty laugh, O'Ryan was young, a year younger than Tom, with dark golden brown hair, in the same uniform they all wore with a kepi, Quincannon and Mulcahy wore the exact same, except they were older and more plump, Mulcahy being bald and Quincannon having a slight bit of ginger red hair with a thick mustache that ran from his upper lip to his the mid section of each cheek., they continued to gest but deep down, Sergeant-Major Reynolds wasn't in a great mood, he still felt to blame at what happened at Tennessee Ridge, even after two years of war, but instead, the Army commended him with holding the ridge with his fellow Non-Commissioned Officers, and being the last off the field. Thomas then took out a small box, containing a photo and his medal, it was of him and his family, his Father in his uniform of an Infantry Major in the 69th New York Infantry Regiment, part of the Irish Brigade under General Thomas Francis Meagher's command, and him in his new Sergeant-Major Stripes he got a few months before in the Spring of 1862, five months before his father was killed at Fredericksburg. While reminiscing, footsteps got louder as someone approached the tent. "Permission to enter?" The Sergeant-Major "Who is it?" An officer walked into the tent, the four Sergeants shot up straight to attention. "At ease, my name is Captain Kirby York, I've been assigned as temporary regimental commanding officer, and permanent commander of 'B' Company, who here is Sergeant-Major Thomas Reynolds?" The Sergeant-Major stepped forward. "I am sir." Captain York put out his hand and smiled. "Glad to know you Sergeant, I served with you father, he told me a lot about you, he was good man." The Sergeant extended his hand to shake his new commanding officer's. "Thank you sir, I'll try to live up to the same expectations." The Captain nodded "I know you will, there's two new Lieutenants and many new enlisted men given to us by JEB Stuart's old command, so we're back up to full strength of 100 Officers and men, we'll saddle up in two hours Sergeant-Major." The Sergeant-Major saluted the Captain with a bit of a smile. "Yes sir."

Soon, the company was formed, and they started to ride to the train station for the men to go on a ten day furlough to visit their families. Sergeant-Major Reynolds younger brother who was in his second year at West Point. Then, when the ten days were up, he took another train to Fort Leavenworth were he and the rest of his company took a Train to Santa Fe in the New Mexico Territory, and rode the long lonely miles to reach Fort Apache in the Territory of Arizona.


	2. Colonel on the Post

It was March of 1866 had been almost a year since 'B' Company had arrived at Fort Apache in the Territory of Arizona, they were not yet accustomed to life on the frontier, but they were making progress. But they had not run into many Indians since the Company had mostly been confined to the fort for most of the period they had been there. But that doesn't have it's perks, contrary to back east, soldiers and officers alike wear white Stetsons and Kepis, instead of only kepis and black hats with a crossed sabers patch. Sergeant-Major Reynolds dusted off his black stetson, noticeably different than those of the other troopers, as he walked across the parade ground to go to the headquarters with some papers, he didn't know what they said, but they must have been important. The Sergeant-Major knocked on the headquarters door and waited for a response from his commanding officer. "Enter." The Sergeant entered and saluted his commanding officer. "I have some papers for you sir." The Sergeant-Major put the papers on the Captain's desk. "They came from one of the local mail carriers, must be important." Captain York looked over the papers and looked up at the Sergeant with a grin, Captain York was a inch or two shorter than the Sergeant-Major, had sleek black hair and early middle-aged face, he was a hard man, but fair and kind, a officer the men could trust, one Thomas could trust. "The new Commanding Officer is arriving in Wolf's Butte tomorrow afternoon." The Sergeant-Major looked down at his boots. "Let's hope he knows how to deal with Indians like you sir." The Captain placed the paper on his desk. "Don't worry, the new commanding officer used to serve with me at Fort Clark in Texas, Colonel Innis Newton Palmer is one of the best soldiers in the southwest." Thomas nodded. "Yes sir, do you want me to make preparations for Colonel Palmer's arrival?" The Captain nodded. "I want you to form a detail of ten men to pick up the Colonel tomorrow, I'll be busy here." The Sergeant-Major clicked his boots as he stood at attention. "Right Sir." The Sergeant gave his commanding officer a salute, and the Captain returned it, the Sergeant walked out of the Captain's office and back onto the parade ground of the Fort. He went over to the stables to find Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon, they were helping some of the new recruits learn to ride. The Sergeant pulled out his pipe and lit a match and leaned against one of the stable's wooden stable doors and watched as the three Sergeants tried to teach the new recruits how to ride.

Sergeant Mulcahy walked in front of the new recruits with a riding crop under his arm. "ATTENTION!" The recruits shot to attention at the voice of Sergeant Mulcahy, he faced the men with a large smile on his face. "Alright, today we're gonna teach you how to ride the horses, no more walking, and by the time we're through with you's, you'll be riding like Senators the all of you's. Your rough riding Sergeant will be, Sergeant O'Ryan." The Sergeant started to step away but quickly turned around to look at the recruits. "RELAX!" It was as if they stood at attention to relax, then Sergeant O'Ryan took over. "Atten-TION!" The men seemed more relaxed and stood to attention. "Gentlemen, this is a horse, you will see it has no saddle, because it will be easier for you to stay on without the saddle, now before we progress, is anyone here come from a family in Ireland?" One recruit stepped forward and saluted. "Yes sir, my family comes from Tipperary." The Sergeant moved in front of the recruit and extended his right hand. "I'm proud to shake your hand." The two shook hands. "Thank you sir." The Sergeant released the hand of the recruit and held onto a riding crop with both his hands. "I hope you'll have the honor of buying me a drink on your next payday." The Recruit nodded vigorously "An honor sir." The Sergeant put his hand on the recruits shoulder. "You're now, an acting Corporal." The recruit got on the horse, Corporal Reed hit the backside of the horse, and the horse bolted from the stable grounds onto the parade ground, but the rider was still on the horse. The other recruits looked in awe as one of their fellow recruits rode like the wind. The recruits cheered for the rider. "ATTENTION!" Shouted all the Sergeants in unison, once the commotion quieted Sergeant O'Ryan spoke up. "Now you see how easy it is gentlemen. Gentlemen, to your horses, who will be the first volunteer?" One of the recruits raised their hand. "I AM!" The recruit ran over to one of the horses, he jumped up to mount, but Corporal Reed just threw him over the horse, but the recruit managed to get on. But was bucked off, the other recruits mounted the saddleless horses, but were either struggling to stay on, or got bucked off, Sergeant Mulcahy tried to instruct them. "Now stay on your horses, and if you fall off, get on again, it's a, it's an order in the army, that if you fall of a horse, you mount again like a gentlemen." Sergeant-Major Reynolds chuckled as he smoked his pipe, the new recruits kept trying to ride the horses, one recruit held onto the tail of the horse as it ran off, he still held the horses tail and ended up getting dragged through the stable grounds.

Corporal Reed tried to have two of the recruits double-back on a horse and ride, but the second recruit on the horse fell off and the first recruit held onto the horse's neck for his dear life. The second recruit got back on again, but was immediately thrown off again, the first recruit to ride off returned and dismounted in front of Sergeant O'Ryan. "Sir, I beg to report, I lost my cap sir." The Sergeant just shook his hand. "Thank you sir, thank you." Soon, after the whole thing was cleared up and Sergeant-Major Reynolds continued smoking his pipe and walked up to the three Sergeants. "Well, I hope i'm not interrupting anything?" The three merely looked up at the sound of their friend's voice. "Hello there Tom, we were just about to go over to the Sutler's Store." The Sergeant-Major shook his head, telling them that they would have to change their plans. "Well guess again Gentlemen, your going to look for seven men to ride with the four of us into Wolf's Butte." The three seemed to beam with the idea of going into the town that was no more than a few hours ride from the post. "Why you never told me that we were going into Wolf's Butte? What's the occasion?" The Sergeant-Major put on a straight face. "It's not a social call Mulcahy, it's a duty call." He started to walk away until he turned around again. "Oh, and make sure you and those other seven troopers are wearing their blouses tomorrow." As Sergeant-Major Reynolds walked away, the other three Sergeants looked at each other with confused faces. "Blouses, for what?" As the Sergeant-Major walked away, he shouted to his friends. "The new commanding officer is coming tomorrow, and we have to look sharp, but as a precaution for us running into Indians, 45 rounds carbine, another 21 revolving pistol, carry on gentlemen."

The Next Morning

The young Sergeant-Major had put on his more formal duty uniform, he had his Golden Yellow neckerchief tucked under his blouse collar, before the men left for Wolf's Butte, he went to report to Captain York that you and the others were leaving. "Detail ready and prepared to leave Captain." Sergeant-Major Reynolds gave a sharp salute which the Captain returned. "Very good Reynolds, take off, and be careful, a lot could happen between Wolf's Butte and back here at the Fort." Thomas nodded. "Yes sir." He saluted his superior and walked back outside to join the detail. The Sergeant walked out and saw his three friends outside in their blouses. "Hello there Tom." Shouted Mulcahy, he Sergeant-Major waved. "Good morning, you ready fellas?" The Sergeant walked past them to his horse as the other three Sergeants walked behind him. "Sure we are, remember the last time we wore these things, was when Lieutenant Middleton..." They stopped, and the Sergeant just stood there, he clenched his fist in anger. But then exhaled and mounted his horse. "Well, are you three just going to stand there, or are you going to mount up so we can get going." The other three Sergeants mounted their horses and Sergeant-Major Reynolds gave the order to leave the for to escort the new commanding officer here. "By two's, at the half gallop, Yo-ho!" The men left through the fort gates and headed for the town.

As they rode down the trail, they passed Blue Mesa and headed northeast towards Wolf's Butte, but they didn't know, that they were being watched from the cliffs in the distance, Coyotero Apaches Under Chief Standing Wolf were watching them. They quickly rode off to tell their chief they saw the long knives, and they were going to attack them when they headed back to the fort.

After two hours of riding, the small detail of eleven men arrived in Wolf's Butte, the townspeople were a little confused to see the troopers in their blouses, but continued on with their business. The men assembled in front of the Wells Fargo Stagecoach Office and went into line, Sergeant-Major Reynolds dismounted and shook his head. He expected because there was a high ranking US Army Officer aboard the Stagecoach, it would be here on time, but it appears Stagecoach drivers don't rush for anything, except Indians. The Sergeant removed his cavalry gauntlets and hit's them against the palm of his hand. "The Stage is always late, what do I expect." Sergeant Mulcahy spoke up to the Sergeant-Major. "Say Tom, how about we all go over to the Saloon and..." The Sergeant-Major quickly turned to the older Line Sergeant. "Mulcahy, if you, O'Ryan, and Quincannon go over to that saloon, I'll have all your stripes and you'll be cooling your heels in the guardhouse for sixty days."

Just then, the Stagecoach came into town and was coming into town, Sergeant-Major Reynolds quickly ran over to his horse and mounted up. "Draw, SABERS!" The troopers drew their sabers and rested them on their shoulders, as the Stagecoach stopped, Sergeant-Major Reynolds gave another order. "Present, SABERS!" The troopers held their sabers in front of their faces, the Colonel and his orderly walked out to see the line of troopers in front of them, the Sergeant-Major had returned his saber to his scabbard, turned his horse and trotted over to them, dismounted and saluted his new commanding officer. His new commanding officer had a slouch hat with the crossed saber patch in the center, but most officer on the post wore white stetson hats with yellow hat cords or kepis, just like the enlisted men that resembled ones worn by ranch hands, cowboys or gunslingers, but he was wearing a double breasted dress uniform, the young Non Commissioned Officer saluted his superior. "Sergeant-Major Reynolds sir, here with escort for you to Fort Apache sir." The Colonel returned the salute. "Very good Sergeant-Major, this is my orderly Sergeant Hochbauer." Sergeant-Major Reynolds turned to Sergeant Hochbauer, he was wearing the same thing as him, except he had on a kepi while his hat was a black stetson with a yellow hat cord while hat of the others were white. Except for Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon, who wore their kepi's. "Nice to meet you Hochbauer." The Prussian "Nice to meet you as well." The Sergeant turned back to the Colonel. "We're ready to leave when you are sir." The Colonel gave a nod, and looked "Actually Sergeant-Major, after a long ride like that, I could use a drink, would you and those other Sergeant's care to join me?" Sergeant-Major Reynolds was surprised, he didn't expect the Colonel to be wanting a drink, but out of courtesy and respect, he accepted. "Thank you sir, we would." He turned to the other Sergeants. "MULCAHY, O'RYAN, QUINCANNON! Get over here!" The three of them returned their sabers to their scabbards, dismounted and ran over to Sergeant-Major Reynolds. "What is it Tom?" Asked Sergeant Mulcahy. "The Colonel, has invited us..." The Sergeant started to smile at the end."...to have a drink" The others just smiled and laughed, they all walked off to the saloon to have a drink with the Colonel. After that, Corporal Reed gave Colonel Palmer and Sergeant Hochbauer their mounts. "By twos, Forward, Yo-ho." and the small escort detail set off for Fort Apache. But what they didn't know, is that a few Indians were waiting for them near Blue Mesa.

The troopers trotted down the trail, but something didn't feel right, it was oddly quiet, then men and even the horses seemed uneasy. Sergeant-Major Reynolds couldn't put his finger on it, until he finally heard why. From behind the detail, came a swarm of screaming Coyotero Apaches, the Sergeant's eyes widened like dinner plates when he saw the Indians. He thought about their situation, and saw a bunch of rocks that they could hide behind to fire on the Apaches, so he gave the order to ride that way. "TOWARD THOSE ROCKS MEN, ON THE DOUBLE!" The detail of men rode quickly towards the rocks. "DISMOUNT, FIGHT ON FOOT!" The men dismounted and pulled out their Sharps Carbines out of their Rifle Scabbards and aimed at the Apaches and their ponies. Colonel Palmer had his revolving pistol and so did Sergeant Hochbauer, so they didn't just sit there and let the troopers fight it out themselves. Sergeant-Major Reynolds: "Wait for it lads! Hold your fire until I give the word." The men looked down their sights as the Indians got closer to them. One man was so nervous he pulled the trigger on his Carbine, the Sergeant-Major looked back at him and scowled before he yelled. "I SAID HOLD YOUR FIRE!" They kept waiting until the Indians were in range of their carbines, the Sergeant-Major gave the order. "FIRE!" And all at once, the detail of troopers fired all at once, the Indians charging in the front were filled with lead, but the others continued, firing Winchester Seven-Shot Repeaters. The men kept firing their carbines and pistols, not letting up for anything, the Apaches were only half their number when they were less than fifty yards away, soon they broke off and fell back out of sight. The men got up and cheered as the Indians rode away, Sergeant-Major Reynolds stood up and looked back at the men. "Mulcahy!" Sergeant Mulcahy ran over to Sergeant-Major Reynolds who had called him. "What is it Tom?" The Sergeant-Major pulled off "What are our casualties?" Mulcahy took off his kepi and ran his hand over his balding head, before looking up at Tom. "Two troopers wounded, Smith and Mercer. Smith in the arm near the shoulder, and Mercer in the leg, just above the knee." "I'll go see them, go check on the Colonel and his orderly for me." The young Sergeant-Major jumped up with his carbine in one hand and ran over to where the wounded men were. He saw the two men, one with a tourniquet around his leg, another with a makeshift arm sling. "Are the two of you alright?" John Smith, an older man in his late fifties with a grey beard and balding head looked up at the Sergeant-Major, he was actually Rome Clay, once a Brigadier in the Confederate Army. "Well, I guess I can't aim or saddle a horse for a while, but I reckon I'll be alright." He chuckled a bit, the Sergeant then turned to Trooper Mercer. "How about you Mercer?" The trooper nodded. "I'll be alright Sarge." The Sergeant-Major laid the butt of his carbine on the ground and leaned against it and sighed. They could only fight off Indians for so long, the Sergeant knew he had to get the men out of there, he made up his mind. He would order a mad dash for Fort Apache. "Do you think the two of you will be able to ride?" Smith and Mercer nodded "We can try Sarge." The Sergeant smiled and patted both men on the back and walked off to see the Colonel. When the Sergeant approached the Colonel he saluted and the Colonel returned it. "Well Sergeant-Major?" Thomas sighed. "Sir, I don't think we can hold them back again, we just don't have enough troopers sir, and certainly not enough ammunition." The Colonel nodded in agreement. "I concur Sergeant-Major, but what about your wounded?" The Sergeant-Major looked back at the men as a few troopers helped them up. "They can ride, but they'll need the help of the doctor back at the fort." The Colonel looked over at them and at the rest of the troopers. "Well, your in command Sergeant-Major." Sergeant-Major Reynolds saluted Colonel Palmer and gave the order to mount up. The two wounded troopers mounted up with a bit of help from their fellow troopers. "FORWARD, AT THE GALLOP, HO!"

The men galloped away from the rocks and made a mad dash for Fort Apache, but they Coyoteros had not given up and trying to destroy the small detail of men. They watched from a ridge just ten miles away from the fort. They screamed like banshees coming down the ridge, firing their Winchester Repeaters at the troopers, the troopers pulled out their revolving pistols and returned fire, while still riding towards the fort, which they could see in the distance. And from the fort, the sentries on the walls could see the detail riding towards the fort gates. A sentry shouted loud enough to be heard all over the post. "Sergeant-Major Reynolds AND THE ESCORT DETAIL ARE RIDING FAST TOWARDS THE GATES!" Captain York heard this from inside the Post Headquarters, he grabbed his hat and quickly ran outside. "SENTRIES ON THE WALL!" The men on guard duty got on the wall and fired on the Indians on the tail of the detail of men. "OPEN THE GATES!" Troopers moved quickly to open the fort gates and the troopers pour through. The Indians seeing that they were going to get wiped out if they continued to ride towards the fort, quickly wheeled their horses around and galloped back to their camp in the foothills. Sergeant-Major Reynolds dismounts from his horse when he sees Captain York approach him, he salutes his commanding officer. "Sir, Sergeant-Major Reynolds reporting with escort detail for the new commanding officer." The Captain returned the salute. "At ease Sergeant-Major, and good work, glad to see the men in one piece, get your wounded to the infirmary and dismiss the detail." Thomas nodded. "Yes sir." He saluted and he turned around to dismiss the detail of men. "DETAIL, dismissed." The troopers trotted over to the stables to water down their horses and feed them. Col Palmer walks over to Captain York and they shake hands. "Nice to see you again Kirby." The Captain smiled. "You too Newt." While they went off to the Headquarters to catch up on old times, Sergeant-Major Reynolds walked over to 'B' Company's barracks and sits on his cot, he laid down on his cot and sighed in relief, that his first engagement with the Indians went fairly well, even if it was a run and gun fight.


	3. Escorting Supplies

The next day, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was organizing some papers in the Headquarters, to let Sergeant Hochbauer take over before he went to do his other duties and moved his desk into Captain York's Quarters where he'll help him at a desk with Company paperwork instead of Regimental paperwork. Just as he was packing the last few papers, Colonel Palmer stepped inside, and everyone stood at attention. The Colonel wore a different uniform, he wore a long sleeve, navy blue shirt with suspenders with his Colonel's shoulder boards on his shoulders to show his rank, and he wore a white stetson like the majority of the officers and enlisted men on the post. "Sergeant-Major Reynolds?" Thomas took a step forward. "Yes sir?" The Colonel looked at him. "Have the bugler sound Officer's Call." Sergeant-Major Reynolds was confused, Officer's Call before morning Officer's Mess, the Company Commanders would not be happy about it. "Officer's Call?" The Colonel put on a stern face. "How long have you been in the army Sergeant-Major?" The Sergeant-Major kept his bearing and looked straight ahead. "Six years next March." The Colonel nodded, and began to walk into his office. "Then you've heard of Officer's Call, have it sounded." There was a moment of silence before Tom responded. "Yes sir." He saluted his superior and was about to find the bugler when the Colonel called him back again. "Oh and Sergeant." The Sergeant-Major looked back. "Yes sir?" The Colonel put his hand on the doorknob, putting weight on it. "I want to commend you on how you handled that action yesterday, for someone new to the frontier, you learn fast." And the Colonel walked into his office, Sergeant-Major Reynolds went outside to find the bugler polishing his bugle. "Derice, sound Officers Call." Derice was a bit short at 5'2 with black hair and a rough face, with a bugle insignia on his sleeves to show he was a bugler, and two thin gold stripes running down the legs of his pants. "Right now?" The Sergeant-Major quietly shouted as Derice to make sure he got the message. "NO NEXT CHRISTMAS YOU LOONY, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE ARMY!? THEN YOU'VE HEARD OF OFFICER'S CALL HAVE IT SOUNDED!" The Bugler quickly rushed to blow the bugle call, the sound of Officers call blew all over the post, informing all officers on the post with the exception of those posted as 'officer of the day' to report to the Post Headquarters.

It was before breakfast and Colonel Palmer decided to call the officers together to tell them about how he's taking command of the Regiment. "General Order #436, One: Lieutenant-Colonel Innis Palmer is relieved of his present duties and is to report to Fort Apache, Etc etc, and is to take command of the United States Second Cavalry Regiment at said post. Sighed Secretary of War Edwin M Stanton. Two: He is to immediately cooperate with the local population of settlers, but if any case marshal law is necessary, he is to use it at his own discretion." He looked up to address the officers. "With these orders gentlemen I take command of the Regiment, relieving Captain Kirby York, who has returned to his troop." The Colonel sat down at his desk as the Officers stood at attention. "Gentlemen, I did not seek this command, but I couldn't ask for a better Regiment with a better record, better officers, or better enlisted men, any questions?" The officers remained silent. "Good Morning Gentlemen, you may return to your breakfast or your other duties." The officers saluted the Colonel and they left the Headquarters, but Captain York spoke up as he put on his gauntlets. "Are there any questions gentlemen, if there are none, I intend to follow orders, and have breakfast. Good Morning Gentlemen." They went to have breakfast or do their morning duties around the post. While walking to the mess hall, Captain York saw Sergeant-Major Reynolds sitting near the Headquarters. "Morning Sergeant-Major." The Sergeant-Major stood to attention when he heard the voice of his commanding officer. "Stand at ease Sergeant-Major, I'm sending you out again to Wolf's Butte to pick up a wagon load of rifles and ammunition." The Sergeant-Major went wide eyed. "But sir, those Apaches might still be out there, and I can tell they want our hair." The Captain nodded. "I know Reynolds, but we need those Carbines and that ammunition." The "Yes sir, how many men can I take?" The Captain rubbed the back of his neck and responded. "Well, six others that's it." Sergeant-Major Reynolds was in shock, only six other men, he managed to barely get out with Ten other men, twelve if you count the Colonel and Sergeant Hochbauer. "Sir, I just barely managed to hold off that attack yesterday with ten men." The Captain knew that, but the majority of the men were needed on the post, in case that show of force by the Indians the day before made more hostiles join Standing Wolf. "Well Sergeant-Major, there's not many men that can be spared." Sergeant-Major Reynolds sighed, and gave a salute. "Yes sir." The Captain returned the salute and Sergeant-Major Reynolds walked off to find Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon. He walked from the Sutler's Store to the Guardhouse looking for his friends, he found them by their company barracks. He saw that Mulcahy was holding a clear bottle of a amber-brown liquid, the Sergeant-Major sighed. "Does Mulcahy ever learn?" He asked himself, he walked over to them gripping his Saber Scabbard and walked over to three of them with a serious look on his face. "Why hello there Tom." Mulcahy was trying to act nonchalant even though he was clearly holding a bottle of whiskey behind his back. "Don't play dumb with me Sergeant, hand it over." Mulcahy put on a puzzled look, that Sergeant-Major Reynolds could look right through. "Hand what over?" Said Mulcahy. "We don't know what your talking about Tom." Added Quincannon, the Sergeant-Major shook his head. "Don't play dumb with me, either of you, Mulcahy, had over the bottle." Mulcahy knew he was found out, so he handed over the bottle of whiskey. The Sergeant-Major looked it over. He opened the bottle and drank some of the whiskey out of the bottle, he then turned to the three Sergeants who were looking at him with smiles on their faces. "If the lot of you don't stop smiling, I'll have you peeling potatoes for so long that you hands will go numb." He then threw the bottle on the ground and it shattered to pieces. "Anyway, we have to back into town today." O'Ryan went wide eyed. "What, what for?" The Sergeant-Major merely looked down at his boots then up again. "Supply Wagons with Carbines and ammunition are waiting there for us, Mulcahy." He stood up at attention. "Yes Sir." The Sergeant-Major shook his head in annoyance. "Keep it up Mulcahy, and you will see those potatoes outside the mess-hall. I want you to round up a couple of men, volunteers." Mulcahy merely put on his boyish grin. "Right you are Tom." Sergeant Mulcahy called over Quincannon and O'Ryan and they went to find the volunteers, before they were out of earshot, Reynolds spoke straight to Mulcahy. "And Mulcahy..." Sergeant Mulcahy turned around. "You'll make sure their volunteers." Mulcahy smiled. "Why absolutely." The three of them walked off to find the 'volunteers' which in reality meant find some random troopers and tell them they've volunteered whether they liked it or not.

The three line Sergeants grabbed Corporal Floyd and Trooper Collins for the escort detail, they rode out of the fort and headed towards town, the short journey from the fort was uneventful. Just the scenery of the Arizona Territory, and the sight of a few elks and jackrabbits, but it was relatively peaceful. No sign of Apaches which meant no sign of trouble, as the men trotted down the old wagon trail, they got to talking. "You wanna know something Festus?" Started Sergeant Quincannon. "What is it, my dear Timothy?" "It's times like these that remind me of when we were in the old Army of the Potomac, remember when we escorted that equipment from Westminster to Gettysburg?" Mulcahy then lightly tapped Quincannon on the shoulder and pointed towards the Sergeant-Major who had again taken out his pipe for a smoke, he wasn't listening but he always thought about those times with the army back during the war. He remembered at Gettysburg when another officer in charge of 'B' Company was killed when a shell went off behind him, he remembered after the battle he was given the Medal of Honor, but that same month his mother was killed in the Draft Riots in New York City. The men continued on, the horses going 'clip-clop, clip-clop' every time they hit the ground with their steel shoes on. They soon rode into the small town to see three US Army wagons with Cavalry Wagon Drivers leaning against them. The Sergeant-Major trotted over to the wagons and the wagon drivers straightened up a bit. "Who's in charge here?" Asked the Sergeant-Major, an officer appeared putting on his coat with his shoulder boards, he appeared to be a part of the quartermaster corps, the Sergeant-Major saluted the officer. "I'm Lieutenant Jonathan Raymond, United States Army Quartermaster Corps." The Lieutenant returned it making the Sergeant-Major drop his salute. "Sergeant-Major Reynolds, United States Second Cavalry, 'B' Company out of Fort Apache." The Lieutenant looked over the troopers, more noticeably, the small number of. "Are these all the men that will escort the wagons?" The Sergeant-Major looked back and nodded. "All the Colonel could spare sir, we're ready when you are." The Lieutenant mounted his horse and walked his horse right next to the Sergeant-Major. "Well, we better get moving Sergeant-Major." Thomas nodded. "Yes, sir." He turned to the rest of the detail. "Alright, every two men will take a position in front, in between and behind the wagons, let's just pray this trip is a calm one." He went up to the front of the column with Lieutenant Raymond, the Lieutenant signaled the column to move forward, and they started towards the fort. Lieutenant Raymond was new to the Arizona Territory, he didn't know much about the Indians, but neither did the Sergeant-Major, but he had served a long time in the army which might give him an advantage in the field.

They continued down the trail towards the fort, but Standing Wolf's Coyoteros were watching as the Longknives rode next to their wagons towards the fort, the Indians knew the wagons might have guns inside of them. Standing Wolf and at least forty of his braves were looking at the wagons, the chief raised his War Lance, and signaled his warriors to attack. They came down onto the wagons in a large mob yelling and screaming, the troopers and wagon drivers looked behind them and were in total shock. The troopers and the wagon drivers had their horses move at the gallop, to try and outrun the Indians, the men quickly came under fire from the Apaches, the mounted troopers pulled out their revolving pistols fired and the wagon relief drivers pulled up their carbines and fired back on the Indians. The men continuously fired on the Indians, but they were only dropping a few of them at a time. An idea popped into Sergeant-Major Reynolds' head and he turned to Lieutenant Raymond who frantically galloped next to one of the wagons. "Sir, we need to turn the wagons around and head back towards them." The Lieutenant gave the Sergeant-Major a look that said 'he was insane'. "Are you CRAZY! Not on your life Sergeant-Major!" The Sergeant-Major put on a frustrated face and rode up to Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon to tell them his idea. "I have a plan to scare away these Indians." The Sergeant-Major fired behind him again at the Indians. "Well, let's have it, Tom." Yelled O'Ryan. "We have to turn around the wagons and head back towards them." The three Line Sergeants were shocked at what Thomas had just said. "Are you NUTS!" Screamed Quincannon. "I know as soldiers we need to take risks, but that's a death sentence." Added Mulcahy, the men continuously fired on the Apaches, but it was as if with every shot, the Indians got closer. "You know as well as I do, that the cavalry's best defence is attack." Mentioned the Sergeant-Major, the other three Sergeants looked at each other and agreed that it was the only way. O'Ryan and Quincannon grabbed the lead of the second wagon, and Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Sergeant Mulcahy grabbed the lead on the first wagon and they started to turn the horses towards the Apaches. The wagons drivers tried to hold onto the reins and stop them, but it was no use, they were heading back towards the Apaches, all they could do was look forward down their rifle and pistol sights. They fired on the Indians who were baffled by what they were doing, Standing Wolf decided it would be best to scatter and head back to the hills to fight another day. Once they saw the Indians head for the hills, they stopped, Lieutenant Raymond galloped up to the Sergeant-Major, who was wiping sweat from his forehead while grinning. "SERGEANT-MAJOR!" The Lieutenant had an angry scowl on his face, the Sergeant-Major turned his horse into the direction of the Lieutenant. "Yes, sir?" The Lieutenant had a large scowl on his face. "WHY DID YOU THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO TURN BACK TOWARDS THE INDIANS!?" The Lieutenant looked redder than a tomato, the Sergeant just looked at him straight in the face. "Begging the Lieutenant's pardon, haven't you ever heard that the cavalry's best defence is attack?" The Lieutenant looked down at the ground for a minute and then looked up again. "Well Sergeant, aren't we going to get these supplies to Fort Apache?" Thomas only grinned. "Yes, sir." The Sergeant-Major went up to the front of the column of wagons and signaled them forward. "FORWARD, HO!" They were only fifteen miles from the Fort. But this would not be the last they saw of Apaches, for this would cause actions to be taken by the officers and men at Fort Apache. When they rode into the fort, the Sergeant-Major sent the wagons over to the magazine to store the ammunition and powder went over to the Post Headquarters to give his report. He saluted two officers as they walked out, he opened the door and walked into the office where Sergeant Hochbauer was shuffling papers behind a desk. He walked up to the desk and knocked on the countertop to get his attention. When he heard the sudden noise of knocking on the desk, Hochbauer's papers flew all over the place. "Is the Colonel in Hochbauer?" asked the Sergeant-Major with a cheeky smile, the German-American Sergeant looked up with a slightly annoyed look on his face. "Yes he's in there, he waiting to hear your report." Thomas tipped his hat to Hochbauer, then proceeded to take it off and enter the Colonel's office. He walked in, eyes straight ahead, his black setson in his left hand, he brought up his right in a sharp salute. "Sir, Sergeant-Major Reynolds reporting from escort detail." The Colonel returned the salute and had the Sergeant-Major relax. "At ease Sergeant-Major, proceed with your report." He Sergeant-Major took his hat in his hands and looked down. "Well sir, after picking up the wagons, we proceeded as directed back to the fort but were in a running-gunfight, we turned toward them and they scattered when they saw we came back towards them, then we turned around again and headed back here. The Colonel listened, he was impressed that he turned the wagons back around towards the Indians and managed to scatter them. "A good clear report, I'll look into this business Sergeant-Major, and you might be getting out of garrison on your first pursuit on the frontier, dismissed." Tom gave a good clean salute and walked out of the post headquarters, and over to the magazine to help supervise with the unloading of the supplies.


	4. Troopers In Action

It had been a two weeks since the Coyotero Apaches under Chief Standing Wolf had attacked the army directly. But Ranches and farms were raided and burned, horses and other livestock stolen, Wagon Trains full of settlers attacked, and railroad surveyors trying to reach Stepwood only sixty-five miles away from Wolf's Butte were also attacked. The men of the Second United States Cavalry were tasked with keeping the territory safe, but they could only do so much to help in these situations. Even with a full Regiment, they didn't have enough troops to escort and protect everything and everyone in the territory. But that wouldn't stop the men of the Second from sending a Troop of ninety five men from driving the Coyoteros back to the Reservation at Claw Springs. That Company would be 'B' Company under Captain York's command with his two trusted officers First Lieutenant Flint Cohill of three years experience, and Second Lieutenant Ross Pennell who only recently arrived from The United States Military Academy at West Point. The day before the men set out, Colonel Innis Palmer briefed Captain York on the situation in the Post Headquarters. "Captain, those Apaches have been running around long enough, it's time to take action against them, Mr Bennett up at Claw Springs says it's Standing Wolf's band of Coyoteros." The Captain took off his hat and ruffled his hair. "Colonel, Bennett is the cause of the problem, especially with Cochise." The Colonel shook his head. "Captain, I don't want to discuss that just yet, just get your troops to march out in the morning." The Captain put his stetson back on his head and took off one of his gauntlets. "I know that Standing Wolf is a War Chief, he won't go back easily. Especially with Bennett as the Indian Agent." The Colonel got up from his desk and looked out the window. "I'm not saying your wrong Kirby, but if the Bureau of Indian Affairs sends him, we've got to deal with it, and you know how the army is, I send a complaint about him to Washington, it goes in a loop and nothing is solved. I know Standing Wolf will always be on the Warpath, no matter how many treaties he signs. But we have to bring him back to Claw Springs." Captain York sighed, he and Colonel Palmer had been friends for a long time, and knew he was right, he was always more by the book than York, but still sympathized with him on his opinions. "Alright, I'll leave tomorrow, with Sergeant Tyree as the scout." The Colonel looked back at his friend. "One of your, ex-Confederate Officers?" The Captain nodded "Him, Trooper Smith, Corporal Wilcox, and Trooper McDougal served in the Texas Cavalry, Tyree commanded a company in that outfit." The Captain was a little proud to have the former Confederates in his Troop of Cavalry. "Oh, very well then, carry on Captain."

The Captain saluted the Colonel and the he returned it, Captain York then walked out of the Post Headquarters, put on his gauntlets and walked over to his horse. He noticed Sergeant-Major Reynolds Drilling the First Squad in a Saber Drill to perfect their use of the Saber on horseback, with the assistance of Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon, the Sergeant-Major was on his horse with his saber drawn, resting on his shoulder. "Alright you men, Draw, SABERS!" The men in the small squad of seven drew their sabers and shouldered them. "Alright, now when I call you off, you'll try and hit each target while zigzagging. HUNTER!" Trooper Phil Hunter galloped over to the posts of burlap targets, he zigzagged through the targets swinging his saber at the targets, he managed to hit four out of all eight. The trooper trotted back over to rest of the squad, Sergeant-Major Reynolds seemed pleased. "A good first attempt Hunter, but you want to move a little more steadily and stiffen up a bit, if you're too loose with your swings you won't get anywhere, and you'll be impaled on an Indian War Lance before you know it." He turned to the rest of the squad. "And that goes for all of you, let me show you how it's done." The Sergeant-Major gripped the handle of his Saber, the sun's rays reflected off the shiny blade, Reynolds moved his horse at the gallop and zigzagged through the targets, hitting each one with a precise swing. He got through all eight of the targets, he turned to face the squad returned his Saber to his scabbard, he trotted back over to the men. "Like so gentlemen, now you see how easy it is." The men were quite impressed, then they saw Captain York ride up to them. "ATTENTION!" The troopers placed their sabers on their shoulders again. The Sergeant saluted the Captain who returned the salute. "I see the men are being drilled well Sergeant-Major." Thomas smirked a bit. "Thank you, sir, they need to keep their skill up Captain." The Captain gave a small nod. "Well, we're going to be heading out on a patrol tomorrow Sergeant-Major, to drive Chief Standing Wolf back to the reservation at Claw Springs." The Sergeant seemed to form a bit of a smile on his face when he heard that, the whole company out of the fort to drive back hostiles. Yet he wasn't sure of himself, he had only had two run-ins with the Apaches, he was still trying to get over what happened at Tennessee Ridge back in 1863, he still hadn't forgiven himself. "Reynolds?" He shook himself from his thoughts. "Yes sir?" He paid attention to what his commanding officer was saying. "As I was saying, the entire Company will leave tomorrow after Morning Colors, from there we'll see what we can do to find Chief Standing Wolf's band." Sergeant-Major Reynolds saluted. "Yes sir." The Captain and he rode off towards the stables, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was about to dismiss the men when Sergeant Mulcahy wanted to try and knock down the targets. "Tom, why don't I show these young ones how it's done, even you can stand to be shown how to do it better." Sergeant-Major Reynolds had seen this before, every time Mulcahy tried to one-up him, he ended up falling flat on his rear. "Alright Festus, try not to break your behind like the last thirty times." Laughter came from the small squad, until Sergeant Mulcahy turned around with a scowl on his face, the men stopped laughing. Sergeant Mulcahy had his horse gallop towards the first target, but before he could swing, his horse stopped and he was bucked off, landing on his rear. A loud burst of laughter came from the troopers, Sergeant-Major Reynolds laughed too, but he rode over to Sergeant Mulcahy and helped him up. "Well, I guess I'm a little rusty." Reynolds grinned. "I guess you are, come on, let's get you cleaned up before chow." Right after mentioning chow, Mess Call blew over the post, the two noncommissioned officers looked at each other and began to chuckle, Sergeant-Major Reynolds helped up Sergeant Mulcahy and they both went over to the mess hall.

The Next Morning

After the colors were raised over the post that morning, 'B' Company was ready to leave to find Chief Standing Wolf's band, but before then, Colonel Palmer turned out the color guard with the Stars and Stripes and the Regimental Standard Guidon. As both the Colonel and the Colors passed 'B' Troop, Captain York and Sergeant-Major Reynolds who were at the front of the rest of them men saluted the Colonel and the Colors as they passed. Soon as they were out of the fort, Captain York gave the order to move out. "Right by two's, Yo-ho!" The troops moved out in a column of twos, Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Bugler Derice was right behind the Captain in the column, Lieutenant Cohill was directly in front of the first platoon and Lieutenant Pennell had the rear guard with the second platoon. Further back were the pack mules carrying supplies and extra ammunition, the men were confident and in high spirits, they started to sing.

Around her neck she wore a yellow ribbon,

She wore it in the springtime and in the month of May.

And if you asked her why the heck she wore it,

She wore it for her lover who was in the cavalry.

Cavalry (cavalry) Cavalry (cavalry)

Oh, She wore it for her lover who was in the cavalry.

Around her knee she wore a purple garter

She wore it in the springtime and in the month of May

And if you asked her why the heck she wore it,

She wore it for her lover who was in the cavalry

Cavalry (cavalry) Cavalry (cavalry)

Oh, She wore it for her lover who was in the cavalry.

The men headed south, they guessed that Standing Wolf would now take his warriors to the border where the Cavalry couldn't follow, 'B' Troop intended to drive them back to the reservation before they got sight of the border. After an hour of riding, they were a mile away from the fort, they had gone over Blacketts Ridge, which was beyond a small forest where the fort got its wood from. Sergeant Tyree rode up to the Captain from scouting ahead for signs of the Apaches, the Sergeant was from Texas and an ex-confederate Captain in the Texas Cavalry fighting in Virginia with the Confederates, now he was a United States Cavalry line Sergeant. He pulled up level to the Captain and saluted his superior who quickly returned it. "Report." Tyree straightened his hat and began to speak. "Well, I wasn't expecting to find anything, but there's a sign that points that Standing Wolf is heading to the border." The Captain looked ahead of him at see the barren dry adobe Arizona landscape. "Where do you think he'll head Tyree?" There was a small pause as Tyree thought. "Probably towards the canyon country, he'll take one of the passes towards Mexico for sure." Sergeant-Major Reynolds overheard and decided to say his piece. "But Captain, if we're gonna have to try and cut him off before he reaches the canyon country that'll be impossible. that's over a hundred miles to cover." The Captain sighed. "We've got to try Sergeant-Major, if we don't, Standing Wolf and his tribe will terrorize Ranches, Farms, Settlements, and Wagons Trains along our side of the border, and duck back across where we can't follow." The Captain signaled that the column to move at the gallop, and the column picked up the pace. Despite Sergeant Tyree being a former rebel, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was actually good friends with the Sergeant, even humored Tyree by calling him Captain Tyree, his rank in the Confederate Army. "Well, what do you think Captain Tyree?" The Sergeant-Major chuckled a bit at the end. "Well, Standing Wolf is obviously heading for the border, but if we can cut him off, we'll be able to drive him and his band back to the reservation." The Sergeant-Major looked down at the ground as their horses galloped, he then looked up galloped over to Captain York. "What's on your mind, Reynolds?" The Sergeant-Major patted his Black Mustang and looked up at the Captain. "Sir, do you think I did right?" The Captain looked at the Sergeant in confusion, he didn't understand. "I don't believe I..." Sergeant-Major Reynolds cut him off. "Do you think I right at Tennessee Ridge." He said this bluntly, he waited for the Captain's response. "Would you have done anything differently if you had another chance to fight that battle, or would Mulcahy, O'Ryan or Quincannon?" The Sergeant-Major smiled a bit and looked back at the Captain."What happened that day was not your fault Reynolds, you gave your all, but in the end, some things are just out of one's control, don't blame yourself needlessly." Thomas nodded in acknowledgment. "Thanks, Captain." he saluted his commanding officer and went back to his place in the column. The men carried on at the gallop, only taking an hour or two to dismount and walk the horses to ease them of the strain, soon dusk fell over the territory and the troop camped out for the night, the Sergeant-Major was sitting up against a rock when his friends came by. "Mind if we sit here with you Tom?" Asked Sergeant Mulcahy, to which Thomas shook his head. "No, of course not, have a seat lads." The three Sergeants sat by the rocks, they moved their sabers so they could sit comfortably, Sergeant Mulcahy pulled out something from his belt, it was a bottle of whiskey. Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked over at Mulcahy and chuckled to himself, Sergeant Mulcahy noticed held out his hand. Without saying a word, he handed the Sergeant-Major the bottle. Sergeant-Major Reynolds uncorked the bottle and drank a third of the bottle, the other three Sergeant laughed when he stopped drinking. "Alright, what are the three of you looking at?" The four then started to laugh heartily and passed the bottle amongst themselves, the Sergeant-Major wasn't a heavy drinker, but he had his fair share of liquor every once in a while, he was usually very strict about liquor for troopers on duty, but there were times where he would make an acceptation.

At Dawn

The next morning, the troopers broke camp and continued South to try and catch up with Chief Standing Wolf and his braves, another thing that had to be taken into consideration was that all the regular patrols were still out there. The Paradise River Patrol for example, Corporal Floyd had command that week for the patrol, if they regrouped with the Corporal, they might have a chance to catch them before Standing Wolf reaches the Canyon Country. As the Company continued, they found more and more signs of Apaches, but never seeing any, this got Sergeant-Major Reynolds frustrated, so he decided to talk to Captain York about it. "Captain, why are those devils always a few steps ahead of us? How come we haven't seen them yet." The Captain looked at his top Sergeant, had no experience in the territory where the Captain had plenty. "Well if you saw them Sergeant-Major, they weren't Apaches, they have a few days ahead of us, besides, Apaches aren't the only tribe out here." The Sergeant-Major frowned. "Well, there the only tribe I've seen or heard of." The Captain chuckled. "Well there are others, Comanches, Arapahos, Kiowas, and those are just a few, but you can always identify them by the small details on their weapons and appearances." The Sergeant-Major was intrigued, Captain York told him how he could identify the other indian tribes and war clans, right in the middle of talking about Arapahos, they heard gunshots. "Those gunshots sound like Carbines." The Captain squinted and saw the dust being kicked up by many riders. "First two sets of fours forward Sergeant-Major."

Sergeant-Major Reynolds: "Yes sir." He turned to face the column. "FIRST TWO SETS OF FOURS, FORWARD AT THE GALLOP, YO-HO!" The eight troopers followed Captain York, Sergeant-Major Reynolds, and Bugler Derice pulled their Carbines from their saddle boots, and their pistols from their holsters and galloped toward the sound of gunshots. Some of the men dismounted and hit the dirt, the business end of the carbines pointed to the sound of the shots. They looked over at a low ridge where a cloud of dust appeared, then they saw a few troopers riding away from something. "It's Floyd and the Dry Beaver Creek Patrol." The Captain turned around and shouted to the men."It's Floyd's Patrol men, hold your fire." The Captain then turned to Derice. "Bugler, sound recall." Derice blew recall as loud as he could for the small group of men to hear it. The men of the small Patrol turned toward the familiar sound of a bugle, they quickly galloped over to the troopers as Captain York waved for them to go over to them. Just as the troopers of the patrol got to them, a small group of about twenty Indians appeared, Captain York, Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Bugler Derice dismounted and got out their weapons. The Captain got down on his right knee and pulled out his revolving pistol, while the Sergeant-Major got down on his stomach and fired his Carbine. Then men continuously fired their weapons at the Indians, hitting some of them, but mostly it acted as a deterrent to force them to back off. The Indians fired a few shots with their own guns, but in the end, they ran away. Captain York and Sergeant-Major Reynolds quickly ran over to Corporal Floyd, when the Corporal saw his superior walk over to him, he stood at attention and saluted. "Corporal Floyd sir, reporting with the Patrol to Dry Beaver Creek." The Captain returned the salute "What happened Corporal?" The Corporal was given a canteen and drank two-thirds of its contents, before giving his report. "They jumped us at dawn, we've been in a running-gun fight ever since, thank the lord you came along when you did sir." As the Corporal continued to give his report, the rest of the Troop came up. The men continued on, now they knew they weren't far behind if some of these warriors attacked the patrol of seven men at dawn. This was the chance the men had been waiting for, without wasting a second, Captain York mounted his horse and ordered the men to ride at the gallop. "FORWARD AT THE GALLOP, YO-HO!" The men enthusiastic of getting back at Standing Wolf, galloped while whooping and hollering their own war cry. When they went over the small ridge, they saw Chief Standing Wolf's whole tribe in front of them, numbering a little over the 95 men of 'B' Company. This was their chance, Captain York called up Lieutenant Cohill. "Mister Cohill!" The First Lieutenant galloped up to his commanding officer. "Yes, sir?" The Captain turned to his second-in-command. "Take half the Troop, and get around behind them, we'll distract them up here on the ridge." The Lieutenant nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir." Lieutenant Cohill galloped to the men in the rear guard and took them to the right of the rest of the Company. "Sergeant, have the men form a line and draw their sabers." The Sergeant-Major nodded in acknowledgement. "RIGHT INTO LINE, HO!" The men galloped forwards so they were parallel to the man next to them. Sergeant-Major Reynolds gripped the handle of his saber still in his scabbard when he ordered. "DRAW, SABERS!" All at once, the sound of the sabers being drawn echoed down the line. The men sat stirrup to stirrup, had their sabers on their shoulders ready to charge. Off in the distance, dust could be seen by the troopers on the low ridge, Lieutenant Cohill and the men under his command were doing the exact same thing from the rear of the Indians. The Apaches never noticed the Bluecoats to their rear, Captain York turned to his left and right, seeing the faces of his men, all seasoned veterans of war. "Bugler, sound the charge."

The charge was blown long and loud, followed by the yelling and whooping he men quickly galloped down whooping and swinging their sabers in the wind, the Indians in front bore their lances and tomahawks and rode towards the charging troopers. From the rear, Lieutenant Cohill and his detachment were charging the Indians from the rear, this took the Indians by surprise when they found themselves surrounded by two groups of Cavalrymen. When the two groups of mounted fighters clashed, they fought hand to hand, an Apache tackled Sergeant Mulcahy and he fell of his horse, the two wrestled on the ground fighting for the warriors tomahawk, Mulcahy ended up getting the tomahawk and bashing the warriors head in. Sergeant Quincannon saw a Apache Brave charge him with a war lance, but before the Apache was able to stab Quincannon, he cut the lance with his saber and hit the Warrior with the saber's hand guard. Sergeant-Major Reynolds was clashing with one of the braves in something a mounted saber duel, but with one strike he was able to cut off the top half of the Apache's tomahawk, but by then the Indians surrendered. Sergeant-Major Reynolds saw that it had a Cavalry Shell Jacket, his temper flared and was about to make one last slash before he heard someone call him. "Sergeant! Don't Do It! That's Chief Standing Wolf's Son!" Screamed the Captain, the Sergeant-Major looked over at the Captain and then back at the Indian, he withdrew his saber and put it back into his scabbard, then he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the Indian. "Take off that jacket." The Indian said something in Apache that the Sergeant-Major in his twenties couldn't understand. "I SAID OFF!" Chief's hot blooded son jumped a bit at the large raise in tone, he took off the jacket handing it to the Sergeant-Major. He then directed the Chief's Son over to what was left of the Apaches in Standing Wolf's Tribe. The Captain quickly galloped over to the Sergeant-Major. "I'm real glad you didn't swing Sergeant." The Sergeant-Major looked at the Captain. "Well sir, I couldn't leave that Apache wearing a cavalry jacket, it's dishonorable to the Company sir." The Captain smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I understand Sergeant-Major." Just then Lieutenants Cohill and Pennell galloped to the Captain. "Well sir, we've rounded up what's left of them." Said Lieutenant Cohill, the "Very good Mister Cohill, Mister Pennell, you'll have the men drive them back to the Reservation at Claw Springs, I, Sergeant-Major Reynolds, Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, Quincannon, and Bugler Derice will head back to the Fort, get the Colonel and talk to Mr Bennett at Claw Springs." The two Lieutenants looked at each other before Lieutenant Pennell decided to speak up. "Sir?" The Captain had a bit of a scowl on his face. "I'm going to give that mealy mouthed Indian Agent what for." Captain York called over Derice and Sergeant-Major Reynolds, and the Sergeant-Major called over the three Line Sergeants and galloped back to the Fort.

To Be Continued


	5. A Corrupt Indian Agent

After having the Colonel join them Captain York, Sergeant-Major Reynolds and the others rode to Bennett's place on the Claw Springs reservation. When they got their, the first thing Colonel Palmer noticed was that the colors were at half-mast. "Bugler, raise those colors to full stand." Bugler Derice quickly dismounted and quickly jogged over to the flagpole and raised the American Flag to the top, the others dismounted. "BENNETT!" Screamed the Captain, the men looked around outside the cabin in front of them, and the storehouse next to it, there was no sign of life except for the dogs barking next to the horses. "Maybe he's not here Captain." The Captain shook his head in disgust at the place before replying. "He's here alright sir, BENNETT!" The Captain looked over at the cabin, he narrowed his eyes and walked toward the door, he was about to kick it down when Sergeant Mulcahy came over. "Allow me Captain." The Sergeant jumped up and kicked the door in with both his feet. "Officer's first sir." The Captain nodded. "Thanks Mulcahy." The six of them walked in, Captain York held one of the Winchester 7-Shot Repeaters that the one of Standing Wolf's braves had with them. "He's probably in his back room somewhere. BENNETT!" The Captain walked angrily toward the door of the back room, he kicked it in to find Mr Bennett. A middle aged bearded man with a shotgun in both hands. "Why Mr York..." The Captain cut him off and made a gesture for him to get out of the back room. "Let's go Bennett." Bennett leaned his shotgun against the wall in the cabin and walked out to see the Colonel. "Ah, another exile in our wilderness." Every time Bennett opened his mouth, the Captain got angrier. "This is Colonel Innis Palmer, our new commanding officer." Bennett bowed, as if he was a gentleman "Silas Bennett sir, at your service." Just by the way he talked, the young Sergeant-Major didn't like the cut of Bennett's jib, the Colonel walked up to Bennett and took off his white stetson. "Mr Bennett, a band of Indians has jumped the reservation." Bennett nodded. "That's right, that Standing Wolf and his entire tribe the ungrateful dogs, I treat them well I have goods for them to buy. Knives, Calico, Bea..." "Cheap, shoddy, trash Bennett." Intervened the Captain. "No." Bennett turned to the Colonel. "Mr Palmer..." The Colonel cut him off. "Colonel Palmer, Mr Bennett." Bennett chuckled a bit. "Oh forgive me Colonel I'm not one for titles, I don't believe in titles at all, but sir, you know how children are, they like their bright toys." Out of spite and anger, the Captain threw the rifle onto the counter in front of him. "WINCHESTER SEVEN SHOT REPEATERS AREN'T TOYS BENNETT!" The Colonel looked right at the Captain. "Captain York, I'm attempting to question Mr Bennett." The Captain scowled at Bennett. "Yes sir." He then walked over to the four Sergeants and knocked on a crate in front of several tools, Axes, Pickaxes, knives of every type, as well as shovels, he then turned in the direction of the Storehouse. "Right sir." The Sergeant-Major grabbed an axe and put his carbine on his sling, while the others grabbed picks and other axes and walked over to the Storehouse and this time, Sergeant-Major Reynolds busted down the door. "Gee Tom, what's making your blood boil." Asked Quincannon. "That Indian Agent, that's what." Responded Thomas, they entered and started looking through different crates and boxes.

The two officers continued to talk with the Indian Agent. "So you have no knowledge of why a band of Indians would want to go on the warpath." Bennett started to walk toward the Colonel, rambling. "Not the warpath, misguided maybe, like wayward children mister." The Colonel took off his hat "Innocent people have been killed, my men can't patrol every inch of this territory, it's your job to keep the peace here while we take care of the hostiles and try to keep the peace out there." Bennett came up with a quick excuse. "Are you sure it was Standing Wolf and his warriors, it could have been some other raiding party, how can you be so sure." The Colonel narrowed his eyes. "Captain York and his men have taken his band, and bringing back what's left of them." "And you'll keep them here, you'll assign a troop to keep them here, that's what I've been trying to tell Mr York here all along, now look what's happened, innocent people have been killed, all because of the high handed Mr York." If you were really quiet, you could here the last bit of patience that Captain York had snap. "Why you MEALY MOUTHED!" He slapped Bennett across the face with his gauntlet and Bennett fell back from the force of the strike. "CAPTAIN! Mr Bennett is a representative of the United States, he will be treated with due respect." In the back of the Colonel's mind however, he was more than glad that Bennett was slapped by Captain York, but he was a rulebook soldier. "May I say something sir?" Asked the Captain in a slightly angered tone. "What is it Captain?" Responded the Colonel. "No Troop, or Squadron, or Regiment is gonna keep the Apaches, or any of the Indian tribes on this reservation unless they want to stay here. Five years ago we made a treaty with Cochise, he and his Chiricahuas came on the reservation to live in peace, and did for two years, until Bennett here was sent by the Indian Ring." Bennett tried to defend himself. "That's a lie, I'm n..." The Captain cut him off and continued. "The most corrupt political group in our history, then it began, Whiskey but no Beef, Trinkets instead of Blankets, the women degraded, the children sickly, and the men turned into, drunken animals. Cochise did the only thing he could do, he LEFT, took his people and crossed the Rio Bravo into Mexico." Bennett tried to appeal to the Colonel with how red men are savages. "He broke his treaty." The Captain made a rebuttal. "Yes rather than see his nation wiped out." Bennett continued. "The law is the law, and I demand you soldier boys do something about it." The Colonel gritted his teeth, he hated the term 'soldier boy' and whoever said it, but the one thing that got his goat was when Bennett used the word demand. "Any demands you wish to make, you'll make through OFFICIAL CHANNELS! Do not employ those words in front of me." Bennett was a little frightened at the Colonel's raise in tone. "No offence sir, no offence." Just after that, Sergeant O'Ryan walked in and called to his superior officer. "We're ready sir." The Colonel turned to the Sergeant. "Lead the way, come along sir." Captain York pushed Bennett forward. "Where are we going?" Asked the Indian Agent. "To your storehouse." Replied the Captain, Bennett appeared to start to panic. "There nothing in there!" Sergeant O'Ryan led the three of them outside and Bennett continued to argue. "Mister, Colonel Palmer I protest!" The Captain shoved him forward. "Put it in writing." They walked into the storehouse and saw Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Sergeant Mulcahy take down a crate marked bibles. "What's in those boxes Sergeant?" Asked the Colonel. "It's marked bibles sir." Responded Tom, Bennett started to sweat when he saw one of the boxes. "That's all they ar..." The Colonel cut him off. "Well open them and let's see." The Sergeant-Major grabbed the axe and broke off the top, there were two bibles on top of a single wooden board, but then when he broke off the board, there were two barrels of rotgut whiskey. Sergeant-Major Reynolds grabbed his carbine and broke open the top with the carbine stock. He stood up with a smirk on his face. "Bibles sir." The Colonel looked into the barrel to see the whiskey move around a bit in the barrel after the Sergeant-Major broke off the top, he looked to his right and got a tin cup. "Sergeant, pour me some scripture." Mulcahy took the cup from the Colonel's hands and moved away some of the wood chips in the barrel to pour in some of the whiskey. He then gave it back to the Colonel for him to drink some. The Colonel took a sip, but he seemed to gag a bit and ended spitting it out. "What is this, brimstone and sulfur?" Bennett stood up straight, and began to speak somewhat "You know what it is sir, and I'm entitled to keep it." The Colonel narrowed his eyes at the Indian Agent. "Your license might permit you to keep a medicinal store of whiskey, but this is no whiskey!" Bennett quickly came up with an excuse. "Perhaps your not used to frontier whiskey." The Colonel narrowed his eyes "I don't know, I've tasted almost everything." He turned to Sergeant Mulcahy. "Sergeant, are you a judge of whiskey?" Sergeant Mulcahy looked over to Sergeant-Major Reynolds, he didn't know what to say and neither did Thomas, so the Sergeant-Major just shrugged, and Mulcahy stuttered in his response. "Well, some say I am sir, and some say I'm not." The Colonel gave the tin cup to Mulcahy. "Well tell me what you make of this." The Sergeant took the cup and took a sip, he winced a little and gave Bennett the stink eye, he then looked at the Colonel and gulped down half the cup. "Well, it's better than no whiskey at all sir." The Colonel eyed the cup with "Strike a match." Sergeant O'Ryan stood up and dug his hand in his pocket. "Yes sir." Sergeant O'Ryan pulled out a match and dragged it against a rough part of the crate, he cupped his hand around it and when it flared enough, he handed it to the Colonel. "Since it doesn't seem to be whiskey." He dropped the match into the cup and it went aflame, Sergeant Mulcahy quickly put out the flame by putting his hand over the cup. "And since it seems to be a highly inflammable and dangerous liquid I see there's nothing else to do with it Mr Bennett, Destroy it." Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, Quincannon, and Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked at each other, three out of four with frightened looks. The Colonel gripped his saber's scabbard and started out the door, with Bennett on his heels. "I PROTEST, I'LL WRITE WASHINGTON AND HAVE YOU BUSTED!" The Colonel turned around to face him. "Mr Bennett, your a blaggard, a liar, and a stench in the nostrils of honest men, if it were up to me, I'd hang you from the nearest tree and leave you for the buzzards, but since you represent the United States Government, I am to pledge you with the cooperation and protection of my command, BUT NO MORE THAN THAT!" Just then, there was a loud bang, it was Captain York who was going through some crates, some of which had Winchester Repeating Rifles. "What about these Winchesters sir?" The Colonel looked at the rifles, then saw a on handheld sledgehammer, he picked it up. "The pins are bent, Sergeant Mulcahy, straighten them with this." He tossed the hammer over to Sergeant Mulcahy, and walked out the door. Captain York held one of the Winchester's by the barrel. "You heard what he said." He smashed the rifle in two. "Destroy it." The Sergeant-Major walked out with Captain York, but he looked back at the three Sergeants. "He said destroy it, think this through first." He walked out leaving the three other Line Sergeants in the storehouse. "Well, we've got our orders." Sergeant Quincannon knelt down and tipped up his kepi. "We have a long day ahead of us this day." They each grabbed a tin cup and poured some of the whiskey into their cups and gulped it down.

The Next Day

Troopers Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon were in the guardhouse for being drunk while on duty, and it was Sergeant-Major Reynolds who placed them under arrest, he made it that they would be in the guardhouse for 60 days and have their stripes taken away for them. That morning, Sergeant-Major Reynolds went over to the guardhouse, he was still mad, when he found the three of them half drunk and with a hangover. "Guards, let them out." Mulcahy looked out, he was wiping the sweat off his face with a neckerchief. "Tom." He tried to plead with the Sergeant-Major, but Thomas Reynolds only got angrier. "PRISONERS OUT FRONT!" The three of them filed out into a line, Mulcahy had a handkerchief and kept wiping his eyes with it, all three of them looked down. Quincannon kept his pipe in his mouth and his face drooped like a old man's, O'Ryan still had on his kepi, but held a half slice of bread and tin cup half full of water. "PRIVATE MULCAHY! PRIVATE O'RYAN! AND PRIVATE QUINCANNON! If it were up to me, I'd make you take Tipplers Oath!" Mulcahy merely stood there and again tried to plead. "Tom." The Sergeant-Major growled. "DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK TROOPER!?" Mulcahy quickly became silent. "Now your all volunteers for the manure pile in the stables, guards, escort them to the stables." The two guards escorted the three ex-Sergeants to the stables. The Sergeant-Major stood there shaking his head as Captain York walked up to him. "When are you going to give them their stripes back Sergeant-Major?" The Sergeant-Major shrugged. "Sometime next week maybe, I need to make sure they learn their lesson." The Captain gave off a smile. "Your kind of acting like a bluenose, you know that right Reynolds?" The Sergeant-Major looked at the Captain. "I'm better acting like a bluenose then acting the part of a common drunk." The Captain huffed. "Don't you drink on duty sometimes?" The Sergeant-Major gave a smug grin before speaking. "The key word is sometimes sir, meaning not to often." The two laughed.


	6. Surprises on the Trail

It had been two years since Sergeant-Major Reynolds and his friends took up duty at Fort Apache in the Territory of Arizona, most things had become relatively routine, but in the Winter of '66, Eighty men in the Territory of Wyoming under the command of Captain William J Fetterman were massacred that December. The Plains Indian War was in full swing in the north, but in the Southwest, everything was quiet, but some things just need one spark to light the fuse of war.

It was now May of 1868, General Ulysses S Grant was elected President, and The Union Pacific Railroad was laying track to try and beat the Central Pacific Railroad in building the Transcontinental Railroad to unite the Nation East to West. but to the Southwest people still go by Wagon Train and Stagecoach, even though the Railroad was pushing from Santa Fe in the New Mexico Territory. Sergeant-Major Reynolds had given Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon their stripes back after their sixty days in the guardhouse, now they were in Stepwood getting the Regiment's mail. It would take them a few days before they would reach the Fort. Sergeant Mulcahy was hooking the mail bag to his saddle while Sergeant-Major Reynolds was talking with the Stage driver. "Well Charlie, thanks again for bringing us the mail, next time your around the Fort, I'll buy you a drink at the Sutler's Store." The Stage driver smiled. "Don't mention it Sergeant, and I'll take you up on that offer." He cracked the reins and he took the stagecoach out of town. "MULCAHY!" The older Line Sergeant ran over to the younger Sergeant-Major. "Yes, Tom?" The Sergeant-Major looked right at the Line Sergeant. "Do you have that mail sack attached to your saddle yet." Mulcahy nodded. "Just got done doing it, now how about we..." The Sergeant-Major looked back at him with eyes narrowed and a bit of a scowl. "Never mind." Sergeant-Major Reynolds went back to a small smile. "Well, we're ready to head back to the fort, but where are O'Ryan and Quincannon?" Just then, the two of them came along with their saddlebags slung over their shoulders. "Now where in blazes have the two of you been?" O'Ryan was quick to answer. "Well, we went over to the General Store and bought some sarsaparilla." Thomas folded his arms. "Really, or you bought it, drank it or dumped it out, then went over to the saloon to fill it with whiskey." The two sighed, they had been caught again with liquor. "Alright, dump the whiskey on the ground." Quincannon began to plead with Thomas. "But Tom, can't we.." The Sergeant-Major wasn't going to have it. "NOW!" The two got the bottles out of their saddlebags and smashed them on the ground, the four of them mounted their horses and they trotted out of town. "Tom, why do you have to be such a bluenose?" Asked Quincannon,the Sergeant-Major turned suddenly to the word bluenose and glared at Quincannon. "Don't drink on duty and maybe I would be less of one." He looked back at the trail in front of him, Quincannon looked down realizing he had offended his friend. "Sorry Tom, you know I didn't mean it." Thomas looked back, with a solemn look on his face. "I know you didn't Quincannon, let's just focus on getting this mail back to the Fort." The four of them galloped Northwest back to the Fort.

midday they had reached an outpost where couriers go to rest after riding hard and get remounts, also a place on the East-West Trail to Oregon and California where wagons go for Cavalry Escort through hostile land. There, a wagon and the man driving it was talking to a trooper, they galloped up to the wagon and saw it was one of those medicine show wagons. The four Sergeants had seen a medicine show after the Battle of Tom's Brook, they were not exactly amused by it. The four men galloped up to the wagon called on the trooper talking to the man, who seemed to be in his sixties. "What's going on there trooper?" The trooper quickly reverted his gaze to the Sergeant-Major in front of him and saluted him, Thomas returned it. "Well Sergeant-Major, this fella says he wants cavalry escort, but I've told him he has to wait for more wagons." The man leaned forward on the wagon's driving bench. "You never said how long that would be." The Stranger was an old man in his early sixties, he wore a white shirt and a light brown plaid vest and wore a brown top hat, the trooper shrugged. "Wagon train might come up tomorrow, or a month from tomorrow." The old man leaned back and sighed in disdain. "Young man, each day I'm not in Tuscon, it's costing me $500." He turned to the four Sergeants. "You men are riding into the fort, why can't we, go along with you." The Sergeant-Major gave a confused look. "We?" The old man gestured to the inside of the wagon. "Me and my partner are heading west for our show, my name is Dan Wilson." Thomas tipped his hat to the older man. "Oh, well nice to meet you Mr Wilson, but we're just the mail detail, we've got to ride fast to the fort, but, if you can make 30 miles a day, we could escort you as far as Fort Apache." The Old gentleman perked up. "Well that's..." Just then, a woman appeared from behind the canvas of the wagon. "That's acting like a perfect gentleman." She turned to Dan. "Cavalrymen are known for their gallantry Dan, and we'll give our thanks by giving a free show at the Fort." The lady said all this with a smile, she wore a green collared shirt with a pair of blue jeans, as well as a gun belt, the Sergeant-Major tipped his hat. "The Colonel will appreciate it, ma'am, I'm Sergeant-Major Reynolds, and these are my subordinates Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon." The young woman smiled. "I'm Candace, Candace Moore, Dan's my uncle." The Sergeant-Major smiled. "Well, we're ready when you are." Candace nodded. "We're ready." The Sergeant-Major signaled his men to move forward at the gallop and the wagon followed them.

They continued down the trail for a few miles until dusk, where they made camp for the night. It was May 12th, it was also Sergeant-Major Reynolds' Birthday and the other Sergeants had a present for him, he was sitting by the fire drinking his coffee when Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon came up to him, Quincannon looked like he had something behind his back, but the Sergeant-Major ignored it and sipped his coffee, the three of them were standing in front of him waiting. Sergeant-Major Reynolds then put down his tin cup and looked up and spoke up. "Well, what is if fellas?" From behind Quincannon's back, was a box with a yellow ribbon around it. "Happy Birthday Tom darlin." Smiled Sergeant Mulcahy. "Happy Birthday Thomas, you're twenty-two." Added Quincannon. "Happy Birthday Tom." Finalized O'Ryan, Sergeant-Major Reynolds almost kicked over his coffee and picked up the box, he untied the ribbon and opened the box, and he pulled out a harmonica. The Sergeant-Major examined it and played a note, he smiled, he was taught by his old Lieutenant during the war how to play and he loved playing tunes on it around the campfires at night, it had been a while since he had played but he knew he could get back into practice right quick. "Thank you, so this is what you got for me at the General Store, this harmonica." The men laughed. "The whiskey was a ruse to make sure you didn't know." The Sergeant-Major gave a chuckle. "Well, I'm sorry I made you break the bottles so we could celebrate with a toast." Mulcahy grinned. "Well, I have four good bottles in my saddle bags in case your up for it." The Sergeant-Major chuckled at that. "Mulcahy, this is one time, I'll take that offer." Mulcahy ran over to his horse and got all four bottles out of his saddle bags, and handed one to each of the other Sergeants. "To Sergeant-Major Thomas Carter Reynolds, may he live long and keep his scalp." The other two Line Sergeants yelled in unison. "Here, here!" They clicked the bottles and drank a quarter of the bottles, the four of them started to laugh, they each took a slug of whiskey from the bottles they had. "You know, I haven't had good Irish Whiskey in a long time." Said the Sergeant-Major, he then started to think of his father, it was his dream to have a drink with his father, but he never had the chance. He looked at the bottle and poured some of the contents out, for the memory of his father on this day, for they share this day. When he was a boy, the two celebrated on the same day, his mother made a cake and had them both blow out the candles, after eating the cake, the two would always give the other presents, he remembered once when his father gave him metal toy soldiers, and how he gave him a tailor made hat he saved his money for. It was a much happier time then, before his father died at Fredericksburg.

Then Sergeant-Major Reynolds went back to looking to the Harmonica, and the two civilians that were being escorted by the four Sergeant looked over at them, the young woman looked at the troopers with interest. "How can they take it Dan, living out here on the frontier for long periods of time." The Older gentleman looked over to his business partner. "Well, their soldiers, it's their job to endure this kind of living." The young woman looked back over at the troopers and how carefree they appeared. "I understand that, but how can they be so happy?" Dan shrugged. "Well, maybe it's their comradeship, they've been in the army long enough to trust each other, and they can be happy during the worst time possible." While the two of them talked, the Sergeant-Major figured he should play a tune on his new harmonica. "Well gentlemen, any requests?" O'Ryan perked up. "How about that old song we used to sing around the fire during the war." Mulcahy and Quincannon looked at each other and grinned, they thought it was a grand idea. "A grand idea Connor me boy." Said Mulcahy, Sergeant-Major Reynolds smiled. "Alright, here I go." The Sergeant started to play the tune to The New York Volunteer. As he played the tune, the others started to sing.

'Twas in the days of seventy-six

When freemen young and old

All fought for Independence then

Each hero brave and bold!

'Twas then the noble Stars and Stripes

In triumph did appear

And defended by brave patriots

The Yankee Volunteers

'Tis my delight to march and fight

Like a New York Volunteer!

They sang as loudly as they could, it brought back memories of the war between the states, good, and some bad, but it was a happy moment and they sang even louder.

Now, there's our City Regiments

Just see what they have done:

The first to offer to the State

To go to Washington

To protect the Federal Capital

And the flag they love so dear!

And they've done their duty nobly

,Like New York Volunteers!

'Tis my delight to march and fight

Like a New York Volunteer!

Candace and Dan listened to the singing, they thought they were doing it well, but Candace still didn't know why they seemed so happy, especially when there's hostile Indians around.

The Rebels out in Maryland

They madly raved and swore,

They'd let none of our Union troops

Pass through Baltimore

But the Massachusetts Regiment

No traitors did they fear

But fought their way to Washington

Like Yankee Volunteers!

'Tis my delight to march and fight

Like a New York Volunteer!

When Sergeant-Major Reynolds played the last tune, they all laughed and drank what was left in the bottles and threw them behind them, the four of them then started to talk again. "Alright, so who takes sentry duty tonight?" Mulcahy began to chuckle lightly. "Well, it depends on who's not wearing a kepi." Every man was wearing a kepi except Sergeant-Major Reynolds. "I don't understand why I agreed to this deal." The Sergeant-Major grabbed his carbine walked over to the edge of the campsite and looked over the horizon of the Arizona desert.

Later

The Sergeant was sitting on a rock smoking his pipe to stay awake, he was going to be relieved in a few minutes, he had been awake for almost three hours and could use some rest. He sniffled a bit, smelling the hint of sagebrush in the Arizona air, he liked the smell, it made the territory feel a little more like home. From behind him, he heard a stick crack, on instinct he ducked behind the rock he was sitting on and aimed his carbine at the sound of the cracking stick. "HALT, Who goes there?!" Candace stepped out from the shadows. "Don't worry Sergeant-Major, it's only me." The Sergeant-Major lowered his guard and placed the stock of his Carbine on the ground. "Oh, I didn't expect you were going to be awake ma'am, sorry for pointing my rifle your way, a man get's jumpy at this time of night." The Sergeant-Major had on an embarrassed look. "You can call me Candace Sergeant-Major, it's alright with me." The young Non-Commissioned officer "Alright Candace." Sergeant-Major Reynolds sat back down on the rock again and Candace sat down next to him. "I just wanted to ask something." The Sergeant turned to look at her. "Yes?" She looked down, then back up again. "Why are you and your friends always so positive, I always thought the army was hard for soldiers." The Sergeant-Major thought about if for a moment, then he chuckled. "What's so funny?" It took a minute after she asked the question for Thomas to stop laughing completely. "The question, but I can answer it for you. Me and the other Sergeants have known each other since we were in the same Company during the war, we've been in the army so long, times like this are used for leisure and relaxation. But, sometimes I think of what might happen if we're to calm, but I choose not to think about it when I can." Candace brought up a follow up question. "Did you have a rough time during the War?" Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked down at his boots, he started to think about what happened at Tennessee Ridge, the men lost there, and at Brandy Station, Gettysburg, Appomattox, but he quickly shook that out of his mind. "Yes, yes I did, but who doesn't have a rough time during the war. I don't like to talk about it much thought, it, well it brings back memories I'm not so fond of." Candace nodded, then she proceeded to get up, with the young Sergeant-Major following suit. "Well, goodnight Sergeant-Major." Thomas smiled "Call me Tom ma'am, goodnight." Candace walked back over to the wagon while the Sergeant-Major continued to look out over the Arizona frontier. He started to think of his home where he grew up, his friends he grew up with, and his younger brother in his last year at West Point. He sniffled a bit but soon regained his composure, he walked over to the dimming fire and woke up Sergeant O'Ryan to take over for him on sentry duty.

The Next Morning

They continued onto the fort, but when they were only twenty miles away from the Post, they saw a dust cloud to the North, the Sergeant-Major noticed this and looked through his binoculars and saw a group of Indians riding towards them, they had weapons, but did not appear like they were going to attack. They were Apaches for sure, but from which tribe? They rode up to the wagon and the Sergeant-Major rode up to the small party of Indians and talked to the one who appeared to be a Chief. The Chief gave the sign of Peace, and the Sergeant gave the sign of Peace himself. "I am Cochise, Chief of the Chiricahua Apaches." The Sergeant-Major had been told of Cochise, he wasn't just Chief of the Chiricahua Apaches, he managed to bring the whole Apache nation under one banner, he had been at war with the American whites for a long time, ever since the original treaty was violated. Captain York had told the Sergeant-Major many things about Cochise, but most things he knew came from his late father. Who met Cochise when he was part of a two Squadrons that went into Tucson after the Gadsden Purchase in 1853. "I am Thomas Reynolds, Sergeant-Major of the Second United States Cavalry." Cochise appeared like many other Apaches the Sergeant-Major had seen before, but he had a serious face, did not smile, with hair that went down to his shoulders and a leather vest, with a necklace of empty carbine cartridges around his neck. "I know a Chief of the longknives, a Chief named York." Tom sat up in the saddle. "Captain York?" The Chief nodded. "He is the silver chief of the longknives of the fort?" The Sergeant-Major shook his head. "He was, now the new silver chief is Colonel Palmer." Cochise appeared to be taken aback by that statement, perhaps a little concerned. "Is Captain York still there?" Thomas nodded. "Yes, yes he is." Cochise appeared to be relieved by this statement. "Will you deliver a message for me?" The Sergeant-Major looked at the other Sergeants, Cochise had left the Reservation at Claw Springs, but he wanted peace, this could be a chance to have it with one of the largest Apache Tribes, perhaps the entire Apache Nation. "Yes, I will tell Captain York that you wish to speak of peace." Cochise just nodded, and he and the other braves with him rode away. Tom sighed in relief, when he heard the voice of Dan Wilson from behind him. "Wow Soldier, you had a lot of nerve talking to Cochise." The Sergeant-Major looked at Dan straight in the eye before replying. "I was scared stiff mister, come on, let's get to the fort." They moved at the gallop and as fast as they could.

That Evening

The detail galloped through the gate, the medicine show wagon caught up with a wagon train heading for Tucson a few miles from the fort, the Sentry let them in. "OPEN THE GATES, THE MAIL DETAIL'S BACK!" Upon hearing that, Derice sounded Mail Call and the troopers ran out of the barracks, mess hall, and away from their duties to get the mail. Even the trooper guarding the guardhouse left to get the mail. Sergeant-Major Reynolds managed to get away from the crowd to trot over to Captain York's quarters to give him the message. He hitched his horse Ranger to the hitching post and ran up to the door of Captain York's office. "Captain York, CAPTAIN YORK!" The Captain opened the door and greeted the Sergeant-Major. "Hello there Reynolds, how was the mail detail, calm and quiet?" The Captain then saw that whatever the Sergeant-Major had to say was urgent, so he waited for his top NCO to speak. "Well sir we can talk about that later, there is an Apache Chief that gave me a message to give to you." The Captain listened with refined interest. "Which Chief Sergeant-Major?" Tom caught his breath before replying. "Cochise sir." The Captain went wide eyed when he heard the name Cochise, he looked up at the Sergeant-Major who had a concerned look on his face. "Are you sure it was Cochise?" Sergeant-Major Reynolds nodded. "That's the name he said." The Captain walked over to the coat hanger and got his hat and turned to the Sergeant-Major, standing confused. "Follow me Reynolds." Now Tom was even more confused. "Where are we going sir?" The Captain opened the door and turned to the Sergeant-Major. "To see the Colonel, I want to try and talk with Cochise, but I need his approval to go, and I want you to be there too." The two walked out of the Captain's office and walked to the Post Headquarters. When they walked in, Sergeant Hochbauer was making a copy of the report from Captain Collingwood's patrol with 'A' Company, and Colonel Palmer was reading a letter from the Railroad about extra cavalry patrols in their area. "Hello there Kirby, is something wrong?" The Captain looked at the Sergeant-Major and nodded in the direction of the Colonel, as a signal to tell him to tell the Colonel about Cochise. "Sir, hen the detail under my command was returning from getting the mail, and Indian Chief talked to me and gave me a message for the Captain." The Colonel seemed intrigued. "Did he say what his name was Sergeant-Major?" The Colonel took a sip of his coffee. "Cochise sir." The Colonel nearly spit out his coffee when the Sergeant-Major said that name. "COCHISE?!" Thomas nodded "Yes sir." The Colonel merely sat there for a moment, then the Captain spoke up. "I think I can talk to him Colonel, I think he wants to talk peace, maybe I can persuade him to come back." The Colonel merely sat at his desk thinking before giving his response. "Maybe, but it's risky, even with a full Company armed to the teeth." The Captain looked down and took off his hat. "I'd have to go unarmed." The Colonel thought about it for a moment, the Captain spoke up again. "You once knew him Innis, he probably doesn't know your in charge." The Colonel had to concede, he knew that the Captain was right. "Alright Kirby, how many men would you need?" The Captain smiled. "Two, the Sergeant-Major here, and Sergeant Acosta, he knows the territory, he was born in Mexico." The Colonel nodded and sat back in his chair. "Alright Captain, I want to talk peace with him." Both the Captain and Sergeant-Major saluted the Colonel, and they walked out of the Post Headquarters. But Tom had a question. "Sir, why do you want me along?" The Captain stopped and turned back to the Sergeant-Major. "Cochise knew your father when he was a Sergeant-Major, we both met Cochise for the first time in Tucson after the Gadsden Purchase, I want you to be there to see this powwow." The Sergeant-Major saluted his commanding officer, he began to walk off when he called the Captain. "Oh, and Captain." The Captain turned to the Sergeant-Major. "My father told me what happened on Major Burke's expedition." Thomas smiled and then went to the barracks to gather his gear.

To Be Continued


	7. Powwow with the Chiricahua

Captain York and Sergeant-Major Reynolds were waiting for Sergeant Acosta to saddle his horse so they can get into Mexico and talk to Cochise, as soon as Sergeant Acosta came up to the Captain and the Sergeant-Major. "Well Acosta, are you ready?" The Mexican born Sergeant smiled. "Yes, I am Sergeant-Major." He had a small thin black mustache with hair of the same color, he smiled from ar to ear, and had tanned skin showing that he was from south of the border, the Captain rode up on his brown mare. "Well if you're both ready, then let's get going." The three of them turned their horses and galloped out of the fort gates, Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon watched as they rode out of the fort. "I wish Tom, the Captain, and Acosta a lot of luck." Said Mulcahy to no one in particular. "I think we all do." Added O'Ryan. "I can agree to that." Finalized Quincannon, two other men were watching, they were Lieutenants Cohill and Pennell. "I hope they make it." Said the First Lieutenant "You can say that again." Added the Second Lieutenant.

The Fort was not very far from the border, it was a day and a half ride from the border of Mexico and the United States, it was made in a policy of the Grant Administration in Washington that no American Soldier was to cross the border under any circumstances, but these three men were heading into Indian Controlled Territory, not technically part of Mexico, which gave them a reason to cross the Border. As the two NCO's and one officer rode south, Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Sergeant Acosta started to talk. "You know Acosta, even though I've known you since I arrived at Fort Apache, I never would have guessed you were from Mexico." The Latino Line Sergeant laughed. "Well, even when I met you for the first time, I never would have guessed you were a Medal of Honor recipient mi amigo, but looks can change things." The Sergeant-Major smiled at Acosta, but when he looked down at the ground, he frowned, he could still remember the names of the men that were with him in battle that day, and who died on that ridge. Then he heard Captain York calling him. "Sergeant-Major." Thomas looked over at his superior. "Yes, sir?" The Captain pointed to their front. "Why don't you go scout ahead, there could be Apaches behind the rocks in front of us." The Sergeant-Major nodded and galloped forward, the Captain then turned to Acosta. "Acosta, don't talk to Sergeant-Major Reynolds about his medal, ever, understand?" The Sergeant was confused. "But, why not sir?" The Captain sighed. "He feels as though it's his fault that the men from his Platoon died, so, just don't ask about it." The Sergeant thought about it, and figured it was the right thing. "Alright Captain, I understand." The Sergeant came back quickly and told them that the way was clear. They continued towards the Rio Bravo, and later that evening they camped out under the stars, Acosta was on sentry duty while Captain York and Sergeant-Major Reynolds slept.

But the Sergeant-Major couldn't sleep, he looked at the sky gazed at the stars. He remembered that he would stargaze back in his home in New York, then he thought about home. His younger brother had gone to the Military Academy at West Point, then he started to think about his father, he remembered that time he was gone for four years before the war broke out, when his father came back he was as happy as he ever was. But when news of Fort Sumter came to New York, his father was given a commission as a Major in the 69th New York Volunteer Infantry, Tom was only 17 then, but a few days from his birthday in 1861, he enlisted in the Regular Army and not the Volunteers. He waved his mother and younger brother of two years goodbye when he got on a train for Washington DC with his father, he was assigned to G Company of the Second U.S Cavalry, soon transferred to 'B' Company. The Sergeant-Major remembered seeing his father one last time before the Battle of Fredericksburg, he died leading his men while advancing on Marye's Heights with the Irish Brigade.

Tears started to form in his eyes until he wiped them away, he remembered that a lot of innocent troopers were relying on him and him alone, maybe some of the officers, but he remembered that he had seniority over the other enlisted men and Non-Commissioned Officers. He thought of their well being and health, he couldn't always let his personal feelings get the better of him, so he fell asleep.

The Next Morning

The three Cavalrymen packed up camp and continued south towards the Rio Bravo, the three of them got to the border by 2 o'clock in the afternoon. "Ever been this far south Sergeant-Major?" Asked the Captain, to which the young Non-Commissioned Officer shook his head. "The furthest I've ever been south back east was at Appomattox, this is the furthest south I've ever been in the entire country Captain." Acosta rode up to the two of them after wading in the river to see how deep it was. "The river seems to be shallow enough to ford." The Captain looked over at the Sergeant-Major. "Are you sure you want to do this Sergeant? After crossing over, we're in danger in Mexican territory and at the hands of the Apaches because we're also in their territory." Thomas gave his superior a calm smile. "I'm not afraid sir, let's get going." The Captain smiled at the Sergeant-Major, and all three of them galloped across the Rio Bravo into Mexico, a few miles from the border was a pass. When they reached the other side of the pass, they got onto a ridge to overlook the pass and it's many twists and turns. "Sergeant Acosta, how about a drink?" The Captain handed him a bottle of Whiskey. "Thank you sir." He looked out onto the horizon and said something in Spanish. "Para la tierra de mi madre." He took the bottle and took a big slug of Whiskey and handed it back to the Captain. The Captain then offered a drink to the Sergeant-Major, he took the bottle and took a slug of the Whiskey himself. "Than, you Captain." He handed the Captain back the bottle, the Captain took a sip of it himself, then threw the bottle into the Pass. "Well, let's get moving men." The three of them wheeled their horses and continued on.

Meanwhile

At the Fort, Lieutenant Cohill and Lieutenant Pennell were inspecting the Company and calling roll of every man with the help of Sergeant Mulcahy, when they were done, the men went to have breakfast in the Mess Hall. And while in the chow line, Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon started talking about Sergeant-Major Thomas Reynolds. "If you ask me, I feel that Tom, Acosta, and Captain York are running into a heap of trouble." The got to the front of the chow line and were being served Salt Pork and Potatoes with bread and a cup of coffee. "Timothy, why are you so negative about this peace talk, I bet their just fine." They had just been given their coffee and they walked over to one of the tables in the Mess Hall "Yeah, but let them do something to Tom, and I'll show those Apaches what Timothy Quincannon is made of." They had just sat down when Mulcahy smashed his plate on the table, he was lucky not to break it. "Enough you too, let's just pray that Thomas is all right, and he'll get back here safe with good news."

Three Days Later

It had been three days of riding through the hot sun and nothing had turned up, no sign of life, not even as much as a tumbleweed was in sight. "Three days Sergeant Acosta, three days and not even a sign of an Apache." The Sergeant nodded. "Si, but they have seen us." The Captain looked out to the horizon. "You can be sure of that." They trotted towards a narrow pass when Sergeant-Major Reynolds saw something glimmer in the distance from behind them. "Sir, either my eyes are playing tricks on me, or I'm seeing a signal mirror in the rocks behind us." The Captain and Sergeant Acosta turned around to see it, and then from the pass was a reply from another signal mirror inside the pass. "They have sentries on both sides of the pass sir." The Captain looked around nonchalantly. "We're surrounded, come on you two smile." All three of them put on nervous smiles. "It's too late to do anything else." The men trotted through the pass, careful not to make any movements that would show that they were threatening, as they went through, they looked up at the rocks to see something that frightened them more than the devil himself. "Captain look, up at the rocks." Whispered the Sergeant-Major, the Captain stared at the rocks for a moment. "Crawling with Apaches, armed with Winchester Seven Shot Repeaters, our good friend Meachem." The Captain said Bennett's name as if it was venom from a rattlesnake. Even upon first meeting Bennett, Sergeant-Major Reynolds already didn't like him when he met him that fateful day he met the corrupt Indian Agent. They continued forward to see any Indians, who appeared to be Chiefs in the center of the large mass of Apaches. "That's Cochise in the center sir." Said Acosta, the Captain nodded. "I know, I'm going to talk with him." He turned to the Sergeant-Major and had him dismount with him. "Good luck sir." The two Cavaliers walked up to the Chief, Captain York made the sign of peace and spoke to Cochise. "Buenos Tardes Cochise." There was silence, an eerie silence that came over the Apache encampment, at any moment Cochise could order the three of them dead with a wave of his hand. "We come in peace." Even though he didn't show it, the Sergeant-Major was scared stiff. But he didn't shake or move, he then saw Cochise raise his hand, and for sure thought he was a dead man in his last seconds living, only to find that he returned the peace sign. "Buenos Tardes, friend." Tom let out a quiet sigh of relief, then Cochise looked over at him, he tensed up again. "Did the Great White Father send you a new warrior with the cloth of the color of the sun?" The Captain turned to the Sergeant-Major and remembered something. "This is the son of Sergeant-Major Sean Reynolds, he has taken the place of his father." The Sergeant stepped forward and made the peace sign, and Cochise nodded and walked towards the Sergeant-Major. "Your father was a brave warrir, and a wise man among his people." Hearing Cochise talk about his father made him stand a little bit taller. After a bit of talking and smoking the peace pipe, Captain York finally mentioned Cochise coming back to the American side of the border. "Cochise, my people want peace with the Chiricahua." Cochise looked right at the Captain. "If the White man wants peace, why does he send men to make my people bad." Bennett crossed the mind of both the Captain and the Sergeant-Major. "Cochise, my Commanding Officer wants to keep you away from Bennett, he can't have the Great White Father in Washington replace him, but he can send you to back to your lands, on your old hunting grounds where the Buffalo are plenty for your people, and there is much land. soldiers will listen to you when you have a problem, and I give my word you will be heard by Colonel Palmer." The Chief nodded. "I trust in you my friend, I will take my people back across the river, we will talk after three suns have crossed the sky at the river where the water flows to the south." To the Sergeant-Major, this meant the Paradise River. "I would like to talk with the Silver Chief, you, twelve white soldiers and the man who make my people bad." The Captain appeared confused. "Bennett, why do you want him to be there?" Cochise still sat there calmly. "I want him to listen to what I have to speak." The two made the peace sign again and the three Cavalrymen rode away from the Apache Camp and rode back towards Fort Apache.

Two Days Later

On the evening of the 17th of May 1868, the three Troopers rode into the fort and the Captain and Sergeant-Major went over to the Post Headquarters while Sergeant Acosta went to the Barracks to get some sleep. While Colonel Palmer was taking care of some last minute paper work with Sergeant Hochbauer, the two walked into the Headquarters covered in trail dust and with unshaven looks on their faces. "Ah Captain York, Sergeant-Major Reynolds, you've returned, well?" The Colonel was relieved when he saw the two enter through the door, but was anxious of the news about Cochise. "Cochise is across the border sir, he'll meet with us unarmed, he says he'll talk to you, me, and Bennett." The Colonel put on a confused look. "Why Bennett?" The Captain was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "He insists that Bennett be present." The Colonel nodded. "Very well Captain, you, me, Sergeant's Hochbauer, Acosta, and Reynolds, will go to the meeting place with the accompaniment of Bennett and the Color Guard." The Captain looked back at the Sergeant-Major who merely shrugged. "The Color Guard sir?" The Colonel nodded. "I want to make this as formal as possible so we can come to terms, I don't want to put Cochise with Bennett, but I can't replace him without Washington's approval." The Captain was taken aback by the statement of his commanding officer. "I told Cochise that you would let him live in peace wherever he wants, as long as his warriors don't attack anyone." The Colonel shook his head. "As much as I would love to let him roam around his land, and hunt on his hunting grounds, I can't allow that, and I doubt Washington would allow it either."

As the two went back and forth with their argument, the young Sergeant-Major started to think, he started to think about his father, he had known Cochise, and would probably be on the side of Captain York. The elder and the younger were close, not just father and son, but they were as best of friends. He never saw his father much due to him being in the Cavalry, back when it was the Dragoons, but that only made every moment with him more special. But on that fateful day, which he got the letter from the War Department in Washington, a part of him died.

To Sergeant-Major Reynolds, War Department Washington DC-

We regret to inform you that your Father, Major Sean Reynolds, 3rd Battalion Commanding, 69th New York Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, 2nd Corps, Army of the Potomac. Has died on the Battlefield of Fredericksburg Virginia, while Gallantly leading his men into battle against the Confederates. Like many a brave man, he sacrificed his life so that the Union may be saved. We have awarded him, the Medal of Honor posthumously for his gallant actions, our deepest sympathies.

-Edwin M Stanton, Secretary of War

He thought of that letter long and hard, he tried his hardest to not make a sound and hold back the tears, he didn't want to look like a lightweight in front of the officers. After a few minutes of arguing, the Colonel finally conceded. "Alright Kirby, I doubt Washington will approve, but I'll give Cochise what he demands." The Captain smiled from ear to ear. "Thank you Colonel" The Colonel looked up at the Captain and Sergeant-Major sternly. "Oh, GET OUT OF HERE, BOTH OF YOU! I'll see you both in the morning." The Captain and Sergeant-Major saluted their commanding officer and they walked out of the building, the Sergeant said goodnight to the Captain, and went off to the Barracks to sleep.

The Next Morning

After the Bugler played To the Colors that morning, the Colonel, Captain York, Sergeant Hochbauer, Sergeant Acosta, the Color Guard and the Sergeant-Major rode out of the Fort for the Paradise River. On the way they met Bennett who was on his way to the Fort to complain to the Colonel again about Cochise, he had Bennett follow them to the meeting place on the Paradise River.

After several hours of riding, they reached the meeting place and found that Cochise had a white flag of truce, the men all dismounted and lead their horses until they were only a few feet apart from each other. "Look at that Colonel, he's all alone and surrendering." Said Bennett, the Colonel shook his head while the Captain told Bennett why they had the White Flag. "Look Bennett, Cochise is here to talk peace, and unless I'm stupid, there's a whole bunch of Apaches around us in the rocks." Informed the Captain, he Sergeant-Major looked around, and saw that he was right, he had to focus his vision a bit, but he saw the Apaches hiding around them, they then got up and showed themselves.

Cochise made the peace sign and the Captain and Colonel returned it, Cochise had himself and his fellow Chiefs sit in a half circle and with that, the Cavalrymen did the same. "Gentlemen, I have the honor to present the hereditary war chief, Cochise." Cochise stepped forward and began to speak. "The Apaches are a great nation, proud, never conquered, but it is not good for nation always be at war, young men die, old one hungry, squaws weep death songs, so I bring my people to a reservation, THEN THIS MAN COME MAKE TROUBLE!" He pointed at Bennett. "He means you Bennett." Said Captain York. "H-h-he's lying." Stuttered Bennett. "Man who make my people bad, is worse than war, he starved my children, he kill my people." Continued Cochise. "He's lying." Bennett was so nervous he could have wet his pants. "Send him away and we will talk peace, if not, there will be more war. And for every Apache killed, ten white men will die." There was an eerie silence after Cochise finished speaking, then the Colonel got up and started to talk. "Cochise, I do not have the power to send this man away, all that you say is true about this man." He glared at Bennett with an angry expression on his face. "But I can have you come back to your original hunting grounds, and let you live where your fathers have lived for many moons, Captain York will make sure no white man comes into your land." After hearing that, Sergeant-Major Reynolds could just barely see Cochise give a small quick smile. "The Silver Chief is a wise Chief, you give my people life on our land of our fathers, and we make peace, my people will live in peace, with the white man." Cochise gave the peace sign, then he, and his escort of warriors, rode away, leaving a few happy cavaliers, and a fuming Indian Agent. "Mr Palmer, I thought that you were going to force them back to my reservation, not move them somewhere else and let them choose where they live for their convenience, that will only make them demand more if you show your soft." The Colonel looked right at the Indian Agent. "Mr Bennett, we want peace, we're not going to spill blood over this." Bennett was left just sitting in the saddle as the Cavalrymen rode back to the Fort. Both the Captain and Sergeant-Major were confident of the new peace that would come to the Territory.

Later that Night

After Derice blew Retreat and most of the troopers were in their respective company's barracks, Sergeant-Major Reynolds pulled out a small box from under his pillow, he opened it and looked at what was inside and gave a faint smile. He was looking at the Congressional Medal of Honor, given to him by President Abraham Lincoln himself after the battle of Gettysburg. As taps blew over the Fort, the Sergeant-Major thought of his brother as he looked at his medal, this was the year his Brother would graduate at West Point and get an assignment, he hoped that his brother would write him as soon as he graduates and gets his assignment. And he prayed that his brother Michael would choose a safe assignment, like the Engineers, and also prayed he didn't graduate at the bottom of his class and was assigned to the Cavalry. With the 'B' Troop's barracks going silent, he closed the case with the Medal and placed it back under his pillow and fell asleep.


	8. Origins of the Henry Rifle

On a war day in March of 1868, Sergeant-Major Reynolds was sitting on the two steps that led up to the 'B' Troop's barracks, he was cleaning and shining his Rifle, but not his Sharps Carbine, he was shining a brand new Henry Rifle. A few new Troopers walked past the Sergeant-Major and admired the weapon that he had in his hands. "Hey Sergeant-Major, that's one heck of a rifle." Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked up at the Trooper. "Thanks, Trooper." The men continued to admire the rifle "Where did you get it, Sarge?" Asked another. "Well, that's an interesting story, but you probably have duties to take care of and..." The men cut him off, they desperately wanted to hear the story of the rifle. "No Sarge, we want to hear the story." Said the first. "Did you get the rifle in a fight with an Apache?" Asked a third, the Sergeant chuckled at the remark by the Trooper. "No, but Apaches played a big part of it." So he started to tell his story to the three young Troopers.

* * *

Two Weeks Earlier

Cochise had settled in with his tribe on the 'land his fathers were born too', and all things had been arranged, the Apaches the land they had was their own before they signed the first treaty. The new Peace Treaty they had signed had peace with the White Ma, and allowed to live their nomadic lifestyle in San Carlos plains and mountains, to hunt the buffalo withoutthe interference of white hunters. In Wolf's Butte, there was going to be a shooting contest with an unknown prize, that same day, 'B' Troop was assigned to get some necessities for the Quartermaster's Store back at the fort. As three troopers loaded the wagon with crates of boots, uniforms, rifle cleaning kits, canteens, pistol holsters, and carbine slings, Sergeant-Major Reynolds, and Sergeants Mulcahy, O'Ryan, and Quincannon watched as the wagon was loaded. "You know, it's too bad that we can't stay for the shooting contest." The two other Line Sergeants nodded in agreement while Sergeant-Major Reynolds only looked up at the sky, he always liked looking at the sky, it helped him forget his surroundings and relax, until the silence was broken once again. "You know, I bet Tom could win that contest." He chuckled at Quincannon saying he could win the contest. "He's right you know Tom." Added Mulcahy. "Yeah, your the best shot in the Company, remember back when we were stationed at Fairfax..." O'Ryan quickly cut himself off when he mentioned the War, he knew Thomas still had not healed his mental wounds from the war. The three Sergeants waited for Sergeant-Major Reynolds to say something, but nothing was said.

The Sergeant-Major stood up straight and walked towards Ranger, his sleek black stallion, he adjusted the stirrup on his saddle and mounted his horse, he looked down at the three Line Sergeants. "Alright you three, mount up." Just as the three of them went to get their horses, Captain York galloped up to the Sergeant-Major and he saluted his superior officer. "Sir." The Captain returned the salute. "At ease Reynolds, looks like everything's done here." The Sergeant-Major nodded. "Yes sir, we're ready to leave sir." Just then, they saw an Indian ride into the town, he appeared to have come from the Reservation at San Carlos, everyone going about their business stopped to look at the Apache. They saw that he had a rifle with him, to the Sergeant-Major, that meant he was here for the shooting contest, but it also meant trouble from the people in town. "Excuse me sir." The Captain excused the Sergeant-Major as he mounted his horse.

The Sergeant-Major galloped to where the shooting contest was being held and there was already a ruckus being started by the townspeople about the Apache Warrior. One of them, the father of a trooper in 'B' Troop, was Mr Harrison, the owner of the town's General Store. "Now listen here Injun, we aren't going to let you shoot here, we'll even take your rifle." The Apache felt threatened by the white men now starting to surround him, until a voice bellowed, not even a few feet away. "HOLD IT!" He had dismounted and walked up and stood next to the Indian and eyed the crowd, he knew most of the people there and they knew him, so they stepped far back. "Now, what the hell is going on?" Mr Harrison walked forward and spoke up. "Well Sergeant-Major, this Apache says he wants to participate in the shooting contest." Mr Harrison was a friend of the Sergeant, whenever the Sergeant would come into town, they usually got the personal items troopers needed from him, such as sewing kits and boot polish. "And what's wrong with that Mr Harrison, isn't this contest for everyone?" The crowd started talking among themselves and agreed that it was for everyone, redman or white. "You're right Sergeant-Major, sorry Injun, well, it's two bits to participate." The Apache didn't understand. "You know, twenty-five cents, to get three shots at the target." The Apache shook his head. "I do not have the white man's money." Upon hearing that, the Sergeant dug into his pocket and pulled out a half dollar coin. "Well I'm sorry, you've got to pay to enter the.." Mr Harrison was quickly interrupted when the Sergeant-Major put a half dollar piece in his hand. "Here, this should cover it." He handed the half dollar to Mr Harrison and nodded at the Apache, he went back over to Ranger and mounted up when Mr Harrison hollered at him. "Wait a minute Sergeant-Major, you gave me Fifty cents, aren't you gonna participate?" The Sergeant-Major looked back at the crowd and shook his head. "I can't, but I've got to return with the detail to get back to the fort." The Captain and detail passed by, the Captain called over to Tom. "REYNOLDS!" The Sergeant-Major mounted up and trotted over to the Captain. "Yes, sir?" The Captain tipped up his hat before talking to the NCO. "I'm giving you the rest of the day off, why don't you participate in that contest, better your sharpshooting." The Sergeant-Major looked back, the crowd of people had heard and were waiting for his reply. "Yes, sir." He saluted his commanding officer and dismounted, this time getting his Sharps Carbine loading it with one of the bullets from his cartridge box. "Alright, are we gonna do some shooting or what?!" They all walked over to the target, which was a bottle on a post that was swung back and forth.

Everyone shot at the target, they had three tries to hit the target, and everyone missed, the next person to go up was the Apache, who's name was Swift Fox. "Hey, Mr Harrison, what's the prize for this anyway?" Everyone else started to mutter about what the prize was and also asked. "Well, it's a surprise, but it's a beauty."

Swift Fox stood in front of the target, it started to swing, he followed the swing of the bottle, he squeezed off a shot and missed, he used the lever action on the Winchester and fired again, this time hitting it. The group of Sharpshooters clapped for the Apache, and he went back over to the Sergeant-Major. "Well longknife, I hit the target the second time I fired, if you hit with first time, you will win." The Sergeant nodded and went up to the target when Swift Fox called him. "WAIT!" He stopped in his tracks as Swift Fox walked off to him while taking off a necklace. "Here, the spirits will guide your eyes with this." He placed the necklace in the Sergeant-Major's hands. "Oh come now, I don't need this." He attempted to give it back, but Swift Fox was persistent. "You helped me come here, and I want to help you." Nathan grinned and shook his head. "Thank you." He walked up to the post where he would take the shot.

He aimed his Carbine at the target, it started to swing, he rested his right cheek on the Carbine's stock, and squeezed off the shot and hit the target. The crowd was amazed, they cheered for the Sergeant-Major, they shook his hand and congratulated him. Mr Harrison walked up to the Sergeant-Major and shook his hand. "Congratulations Sergeant-Major." The Sergeant-Major smiled. "Thank you." Now he went and got a crate from his buckboard and opened it, inside was a brand new Henry Repeating Rifle, the Receiver was a shiny gold. "Got it from a friend back in St Louis, I figured only a sharpshooter should have a rifle like this." The passed his fingers over the rifle and looked at in awe. "This Rifle is beautiful, well, I best get going, the other's will be expecting me back at the Fort." He took off the necklace that Swift Fox gave him and gave it back. "Thanks for letting me borrow this, I guess this really helped me, I hope we meet again one day Swift Fox." The Apache nodded. "I hope so my friend." The Sergeant-Major gave him back the necklace, mounted his horse Ranger, and galloped out of town with his new Henry Rifle.

* * *

"That's basically it, I helped someone out and I ended up entering the contest and winning this grand piece of equipment." The troopers were in awe of his story, but one brought up a question that couldn't really be answered. "How come we have Sharps Carbines, and we're not armed with Henry Rifles, if there the best out there?" The Sergeant-Major looked down, he had asked this question before to the Captain, but in short, it's that the Quartermaster Corps was cheap and couldn't afford to the army the Cavalry with Henry Rifles, and buy the Brass Casings for the bullets. "We just can't seem to get our hands on them, that's all." The Sergeant-Major stopped cleaning his Rifle and went on to take care of his other duties, but the men we're confused, why couldn't they get Henry Rifles. But that was a story for another time.


	9. Night Terrors

It was November of 1868, 'B' Company had just gotten back from chasing a small band of raiding Comanches, but the men were badly bruised up from the fight. Sergeant-Major Reynolds was one of the wounded, he slouched on Ranger's mane as they rode into the fort, he heard someone yell "Sick Call!" then he heard one of the other buglers sound Sick Call.

The Sergeant-Major was helped off his horse, and was walked over to the Post Hospital, where Doc O'Laughlin was waiting to treat the wounded, he was the post Surgeon, and a good one at that. The last thing that he would ever want to do is take off someone's leg or arm because of a bullet wound. The Sergeant-Major was set on one of the beds in the Hospital, other men came in on stretchers and litters, carried by other troopers. The doctor took a look at the Sergeant-Major first, since his wound was an arrowhead still in his shoulder, he had Bugler Derice, the bugler help him. Derice was given a bottle of medicinal whiskey, he poured some in a glass until it was half full. "Down the hatch Sarge." The Sergeant-Major put his head up. "Well, I'd never turn down a free one." The Sergeant-Major drank the entire cup at once, he then found a funny smelling rag in his face, he found his eyelids getting heavy, and before he closed them, he realized it was chloroform.

* * *

The Sergeant-Major found himself on a foggy ridge, but he wasn't in Arizona, he was somewhere he had been before, but couldn't tell where. He got up and started to walk around, trying to find any signs of life around him. He wandered past a few clumps of rocks, and saw something in the ground that wasn't dirt, he got down on one knee and carefully picked it up. He looked at what it was, and it was a Guidon, he studied it and saw that it was 'B' Troop's guidon, his own unit. Then he finally remembered where he was, he looked over at the rocks and saw that they were what marked their graves. The graves of the men from Second Platoon, his own platoon with the men he served at Tennessee Ridge were buried there around him. He took off his hat and laid on his side stayed there for a moment, he picked up a handful of dirt and let it flow out of his hand and back onto the ground, he then heard something. "You left us to die." He looked behind him, he darted his eyes all around trying to look for the source of the voice. "Coward." He continued to look, he jumped to his feet and continued to look, the voices seemed to be coming from right behind him, but he turned around and saw nothing. "You abandoned us." He couldn't find where the voices came from, but he realized who was speaking, it was the men from his platoon who had died there, they were blaming him for going to the right of their defensive line, and leaving. He started to run, away from the voices, away from the ridge, away from the place he hated the most, but no matter how hard he ran, he could never get away from his past.

* * *

The Sergeant-Major woke up with a start, he took a moment to take in his surroundings, and found he was in Fort Apache's hospital, with a few of the men from his troop next to his bed. "Glad to see your awake Yank." The Sergeant-Major looked up and began to speak. "Good to see you too Tyree." The Sergeant-Major started to sit up, but then felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, soon after, Doc O'Laughlin ran over to the Sergeant-Major. "Careful Thomas, I hate to tell you this but you'll be bedridden for at least the rest of the week, maybe a little more." If it was able to, Sergeant-Major Reynolds' jaw would drop to the floor. "A little more than a week?! Doctor, can't I just be here for the rest of the day and get on with at least administrative troop duties?" The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry Thomas, but it'll be three days, and no work, besides, this will be good for you, a lot of the lads here have been saying your working yourself over, a bit of rest will do you good. Not as good as a long furlough, but good enough." After saying that the boys said he should rest, he turned his head at the small crowd of troopers near his bed, they all gave nervous smiles, even Sergeant Tyree. The Sergeant-Major pointed in the direction of the door, signaling 'Get Out' without a word they all left. The Sergeant rubbed his temple of his head and sighed, he laid back down and sulked for the rest of the day.

That Evening

As taps blew over the post, Sergeant-Major Reynolds listened with defined interest, he always liked the sound of a bugle, music had always been a weakness of his, which was why he was so happy when he got a harmonica for his birthday. He had Mulcahy bring it to him while he was in the hospital, he placed it under his pillow and played a tune occasionally, he had a bit on an audience with some of the other wounded, he laid back in the bed and thought for a moment, he thought about the dream he had. He hadn't had a dream like that, at least not recently. He remembered having night terrors similar to these after the battle of Chancellorsville, but shortly after went away. He laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping to get a good night's rest.

* * *

He was at the head of a column next to a Second Lieutenant, they approached a small farmhouse and barn, suddenly, after seeing the farmhouse and barn, he knew where he was. He was in Virginia, he was with his Company, but he would never forgive himself in what happened here at this farm. The men divided into squads and surrounded the farm. The Sergeant-Major approached the house with the Lieutenant, whose name was Jeremy Snyder approached the farm, a man appeared on the porch as they trotted up to the house. "Mr Lambert?" The man answers."Yes?" The Lieutenant looked around the area before speaking. "Sir, we are in the pursuit of raiding party that stole some of our supplies at Louisa Courthouse. I might as well warn you, that if we find any of our supplies, or any Rebels here. We will burn your home and hang you." The civilian looked down at his shoes, then back up at the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant, we're not siding with anyone, my wife is in the house with my child, there's no one here except me, my wife, and my baby girl in the house." Just then, a Confederate Corporal had his hands up while being escorted by two of 'B' Company's Cavalrymen. "We found him hiding in the barn, in a stack of hay." The trooper pushed the Reb to the ground with the stock of his Carbine, but the Confederate got right back up. The Lieutenant gave Mr Lambert a nasty look, the men had unlit torches ready, and this made the Sergeant-Major a little uneasy, the Reb started to speak to a Lieutenant "These people didn't know I was here, I was only hiding until you Yanks left." The Lieutenant looked down at the soldier in disgust, as if he wasn't a soldier, but a criminal. "Don't think that'll help them Reb, we happen to know Lambert's brother is a grayback, so we're gonna fire the place and hang you both." He turned to Sergeant-Major Reynolds. "Order the Second Squad to fire the place."

The Sergeant-Major looked around before saying anything, he saw a trooper dragging the woman out of the house and two troopers escorting the two men to a tall tree, while two other men were getting some rope. "Sir, do we have to do this, this man has done nothing wrong, we can't just hang him for doing nothing." The Lieutenant was getting frustrated with the Sergeant-Major. "We must make an example of them Sergeant-Major, give the order." The Sergeant could only salute and turned to the squad of troopers, holding lite torches. "Second Squad, set fire to the buildings!" The men rushed like starving vultures to the house and barn, they spread hay and kerosene oil around the buildings. The Union Troopers took the only horse on the farm out barn and soon both buildings were engulfed in flames.

The Reb and Lambert were roughly escorted to a tree, where they were both sat on horses and waited, the men took two ropes and threw them over a strong tree branch, one end tied to the tree, the other made into a noose. As the two men waited silently, they prayed, the Sergeant-Major also said a silent prayer, he prayed that something to happen for the lives of these men to be saved. But it would not come to pass, the cavalrymen put the nooses around the necks of the two men, the Lieutenant fired a shot in the air with his colt revolver, scaring the horses into running a short distance, when the horses left from under them, the two men had been hanged until dead. When the Lieutenant fired the shot, the Sergeant-Major closed his eyes, but even that could not prevent the image of two men hanging lifeless from a tree. He wheeled his horse around, and he and the rest trotted away from what seemed to be hell in their wake.

* * *

Reveille blew over the post when Sergeant-Major Reynolds woke with a start, he looked out the window at the parade ground to see men going about their business, grooming their horses, cleaning their weapons, drilling, and some Companies riding out on their patrols, and would be back in a few days. The Sergeant-Major pulled out his harmonica and started to play a tune, one called 'I wanna be in the Cavalry' it was song Tyree had taught him, that the Confederates Cavalrymen sang toward the end of the War.

I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war. I wanna good steed under me like my forefathers before.

Courageous at first we took their worst, our positions we held stout. We clung to belief and we hung on the speech from our trusted leaders mouths. Overwhelming odds and a hopeless cause and our cities overrun. There were them that said we was badly led and God were we outgunned.

I lost count of the worthy mounts that from under me were cut. My favourite mare with her head in the air took the cannons in her gut. In the first two weeks on that bloody creek my brother lost his arm. Was only sixty days till all we prayed was get us home unharmed.

O for the day that we signed our names and the well that we were wished. The men's congrats and the pats on the backs and the ladies that we kissed. The band that played and the grand parade and the patriotic shouts. All faded fast, didn't even last till the uniforms worn out.

And there were none to replace nor to help us face the winters cold and bleak. That chilled to the bone the pneumonia prone and froze our bootless feet. Then the typhoid hit with its fevered fits, TB and dysentery. That proved in the end to have killed more men than the vilest enemy.

We were finally forced to feed on horse and carcass we could scrounge. When the wagons stopped and wed burnt their crops to charred and barren ground. With morale in doubt and our pride run out no honor did I see. All I seen were a thousand dreams piled dead in front of me.

I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to warI wanna be in the cavalry but I won't ride home no more.

After singing the song, and playing his harmonica with the iconic tune of the song, he put it away, in a way, it made him feel a little better when he played his harmonica. He laid there for a moment, he looked down at the white shirt he was wearing instead of the navy blue one with chevrons he always wore, he hated being laid up in the hospital, he felt useless. Doc O'laughlin came up to the Sergeant-Major to check on his wound, it was better, and would probably be out the next day. "Your wound is healing up nicely Thomas, you'll probably be out of here by tomorrow." The Sergeant-Major sighed and grinned. "Thanks a lot, at least I'll be back on the muster by tomorrow." Even though the Sergeant-Major didn't show it, O'laughlin could sense something wrong with Tom. "Thomas is there something wrong, you seem like you lost 100 dollars in a card game." The Sergeant-Major didn't want to burden anyone with his night terrors, that was his own business. "It's nothing Doc, but thanks for your concern." The Doctor smiled and nodded, Doctor O'laughlin was a good doctor and Surgeon, did what he could to keep from taking the day went by, the Sergeant-Major found himself dozing off, the restlessness of not having a decent night's sleep, he closed his eyes and dozed off.

* * *

The Sergeant-Major found himself on the edge of a town, looking directly uphill, and on slopes of the heights were the bodies of Union troops lay rotting. He walked up the heights and looked at the bodies, he noticed that the men had green sprigs in their hats, then he knew who these men were. They were the men of the Irish Brigade, and he was at the base of Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg. He ran up the heights and checked the bodies of the officers, hoping to find someone, in particular, his father. He ran to the top of the heights and looked and looked until he saw someone carrying the Brigade Colors, A dark emerald green flag with Erin's golden harp in the center. He ran over to the man carrying the flag and saw that the man carrying the flag had Major's Shoulder Boards, he looked at the Major's face and recognized the face of his father. "Dad?" The Major looked in the direction of Sergeant-Major Reynolds and smiled. "Hello, Tom." The younger Reynolds couldn't believe his eyes, he was looking at his own father, the Sergeant-Major's eyes started to water, he ran up to his father and gave him a big hug, his father returned the hug. When the father and son broke the hug, the two looked at each other and chuckled at their current appearances. "Gee Dad, you haven't changed a bit from the last time I saw you." His father chuckled at the remark. "Well look at you, a Sergeant-Major, just like me when I was in the Regulars." Now it was Thomas' turn to chuckle but realized this was just another dream, his father had died on Marye's Heights leading his Battalion up to fight. "Dad, I have to talk to you, I might not get another chance, even if this is a dream." His father sighed "Tom, your nightmares are normal, but I feel as though you were exposed to war too soon, maybe if I was around more, you wouldn't have enlisted." The Sergeant-Major gave his father a sad smile. "I still would have enlisted Dad, I would die to keep this country together." He saw a smirk growing on his father's face. "You certainly do have Irish blood in your veins." The two walked down the hill, Maj Reynolds was still holding the Irish Brigade Colors, whenever Thomas looked at the flag, it reminded him of his family, his bloodline, and where he came from, but it also makes him think. He thought about Tennessee Ridge, he thought about the burning of farms in Virginia and in the Shenandoah Valley. He didn't understand why he was having these dreams, and he was very confused and he kept trying to rationalize why he was having these dreams, but every answer he found for himself, didn't satisfy him. "You don't like being in the Hospital, do you." The Sergeant was taken out of thought immediately by his father. "Yeah, I don't like being off the Duty Roster." The Major looked at his son with a curious look on his face. "What?" Asked the Sergeant-Major "Thomas, that's not the only reason." Now his father was confusing. "What do you mean?" His father planted the flag into the ground and held it in place, this made Tom think he was posing for a painting. "You don't like being given pity, you want to act and be strong, you want to try and inspire others to follow your example, but son, in the end, we're all human, tell me what that means to you." Tom took a minute to process what his father had said, 'We're only human.' when he found his answer, he told him. "It means, it means that we cannot be perfect, we're gonna make mistakes and face roadblocks in life, but we're better people for it." His father smiled and nodded, the Twenty One-year-old Sergeant-Major found an answer for why he was having these dreams, why he keeps blaming himself when he knows the fault isn't his. He found how to overcome his fear of being a failure to others, 'He was only Human.' he looked up at his father and smiled. "Goodbye Tom, now wake up."

* * *

The Sergeant opened his eyes, he stood up and looked out the window and saw that it was night, he dug in his pocket and looked for his watch, he saw that it was a little past midnight, he looked around the hospital and saw that the others were fast asleep. He remembered what he was told in his dream, he remembered what his father has said. "We're only human." He smiled, he laid back down in the bed and went back to sleep, this time, peacefully.


	10. A Christmas to Remember

It was December 24th, 1868, a small detail of twelve men from 'B' Company were in the woods chopping down a tree, it was cold in the Arizona Territory so the men were wearing their Great Coats. The reason they were chopping down a tree, was for them to celebrate Christmas at Fort Apache the next day, Sergeant Podge and Sergeant Quincannon were by the tree, Podge chopping it down with an axe while everyone else watched. "TIMBER!" The pine tree fell and a few men approached it. "Well, there's the Christmas tree Reynolds." Said the Captain, the Sergeant-Major looked down admiring the tree. "I'll say one thing sir, she's a beauty." Sergeant Quincannon put an axe he had on the ground and smiled "Yes sir, the finest Christmas tree I ever chopped down." Sergeant Podge turned to Quincannon with the face of outrage. "You chopped her down, WHO CHOPPED HER DOWN?" Quincannon turned to face Podge. "Podge, I cannot tell a lie, I chopped it down with my own little axe." Podge started to stutter, until he found what he wanted to say. "Why-why all you did was let out a little sap." Tom could see Quincannon starting to get a little ornery. "Oh no, Captain York did that when he let, YOU off the post." Now Podge was seething with anger at the Irish Sergeant. "You big gorilla, LISTEN, MY FOLKS WERE CHOPPING DOWN TREES WHILE YOURS WERE SWINGING IN THEM!" Quincannon had his temper flare. "OH YEAH!?" Podge responded with a resounding... "YEAH!" Even though the Captain and Sergeant-Major could let this go on and have a laugh, they decided to put a stop to it before someone lost their teeth is a fight. "Podge, Quincannon." The two seemed to be having a staring contest. "YES!?" The Sergeant-Major chuckled. "Merry Christmas." The men started laughing, and the two NCO's started to laugh as well. "Merry Christmas Podge." "Merry Christmas Quincannon." The Sergeant-Major then turned to the rest of the men. "Alright you saddle busters, let's get this tree on the wagon and get back to Fort Apache to hang our stockings." The men grabbed the pine tree and loaded it onto the flat wagon and rode out.

As the men rode down the trail, Sergeant Tyree noticed something moving in the cliffs next to them. "Hey Captain, I think I see something up yonder." The Captain looked back at the Sergeant-Major. "What do you think Reynolds?" The Sergeant-Major shook his head and shrugged. "This is Kiowa country sir." The Captain looked forward and nodded. "Draw Carbines!" The Captain drew his colt revolver and the men pulled their Sharps Carbines from their saddle scabbards, hooked them on their slings and held them against the sides of their stomach with one hand on the trigger guard.

From the cliffs they saw two Indians, a man and a woman, the man leading a donkey and the woman riding it, the two stopped when they saw the soldiers. "One Brave and a Squaw." The men still held their carbines as if preparing to aim. "Could be a trick sir, their Kiowas." The men narrowed their eyes in the direction of the two, he saw that the Brave and Squaw were looking at them, the Brave waved at them and started to walk down, he was making the sign of peace. "He seems unarmed sir." The Captain pondered for a minute, then he decided on his course of action. "That's good enough for me, at ease men." The men returned their carbines to their scabbards.

The Captain dismounted and started to walk toward the Brave, the Sergeant-Major also dismounted and walked with the Captain up to the Brave. The Cavalrymen and the Kiowa Brave met at the base of the cliffs, the only thing visible he had in his hands was a necklace with several different colored beads. "I am Brave Eagle, I am a friend." He put his hand out for a handshake. "Greetings Brave Eagle, we too are friends." The Captain also extended his hand and the two shook hands. "In the spirit in friendship and peace, my wife Quiet Sparrow, sends you these beads." The Captain acted like a diplomat, but a friendly one. "No gift is greater than the gift of peace Brave Eagle, what gift may we give in gratitude?" Brave Eagle appeared to be quite a bit parched they could tell before he said anything what he was going to ask. "We have traveled many miles in the heat of the sun, with the air being cold, and the dryness of the desert." The Captain smiled and so did the Sergeant-Major. "We have water, share it with us." Brave Eagle shook his head. "I ask for none for myself, for I am a man as you are, and strong. But Quiet Sparrow is a woman soon to be the mother of my child, I ask only enough for her." The two men were shocked to hear that Brave Eagle's wife was pregnant, they looked up at her and saw that she had to be at least seven and a half months. "You're saying, she's expecting a baby? Soon?!" Brave Eagle turned to the Sergeant-Major and nodded. "Even now the pain whispers within her, of the great joy which comes." The Captain and Sergeant-Major looked at each other with great concern on their faces. "B-But she should be with her people, the women of her village." Brave Eagle shook his head once more. "We have no people, we have no village." This was surprising for the two, to the Captain who was a veteran of Indian Campaigns, couldn't make heads or tails of this, and even though he had almost 4 years experience, Sergeant-Major Reynolds knew enough about the tribes to know that this never traditionally happened. "But she needs care Brave Eagle." Brave Eagle stood up and put on a straight face. "I am with her." The two looked down at the ground, the Captain didn't realize what he said was insulting. "I apologize Brave Eagle." He turned to the Sergeant-Major. "Get a canteen Reynolds." Thomas nodded. "Yes sir. QUINCANNON, GET ME MY CANTEEN!" Sergeant Quincannon trotted over to where Ranger and the Captain's horse were being held and got the Sergeant-Major's canteen, he was about to go give it to them when they heard a frightened cry. "Brave Eagle, They Come!" The two Cavalrymen and the Kiowa Brave looked up to see a war party of Kiowas above them. "TYREE, ESCORT QUIET SPARROW DOWN HERE, ON THE DOUBLE!" Screamed the Captain. "Yes sir." The Sergeant immediately galloped up to Quiet Sparrow and brought them down to the safety of the other troopers, the men didn't even wait for the order to draw carbines. Brave Eagle tried to go back to his wife, but he was stopped when Captain York grabbed his arm. "We bring you bad fortune." The Captain didn't see this as a good excuse. "Who are they? Brave Eagle tried to explain but couldn't. "They come for us, we must go while there is still time." The Sergeant-Major intervened. "You're afraid of them, why?" Brave Eagle sighed, he couldn't keep his burden away from the two long knives. "They have mocked us, for sacrifice." Brave Eagle immediately broke free from the Captain's grasp and ran up to his wife, and helped Tyree get Quiet Sparrow down to the men. "Sergeant Quincannon, have the men keep us covered." Faintly, Sergeant Quincannon gave the order for the men to have their Carbines at the ready. Both Cavaliers walked up to the party of Kiowas, the Chief and Medicine man talked to the two. "I am Black Cloud, Chief of the Kiowa." The two knew they meant business, and so did they. The Captain looked straight up at the Kiowa Chief. "Speak." Black Cloud pointed at Brave Eagle and his wife with his War Lance. "This man and woman who stand with you, have angered the gods of our people." Sergeant-Major Reynolds hated these chiefs who said anything about the gods and the great spirit, just as an excuse to kill, even the Captain could notice he was seething with rage from the start. "In what way, does and man and his squaw anger the gods of the Kiowa?" Black Cloud faced the Captain again. "These two make evil magic, in my village there is a man of medicine, reader of the skies and seasons, he had a vision that a child would be born and take power from Black Cloud." At this moment, the Sergeant-Major stepped forward to speak his mind. "Is this the talk of a brave Chief, to make war on a child that is not yet born, it is the talk of a fearful dove?!" Black Cloud raised his voice. "I FEAR NOTHING! And I will destroy these two before the prophecy can come to pass." Now Sergeant-Major Reynolds' blood was boiling. "Not as long as they stand with us." Black Cloud straightened up on his pony. "You stand on Kiowa land long knife, deliver them to us and you will not suffer a painful death." The Sergeant also straightened up, with a smirk on his face. "Our lives are not taken easily, now go, the council is finished." And the Sergeant spit on the ground next to the Chief's horse. "If you wish to live like serpents, prepare to die with them." The Chief threw his lance right next to the Sergeant's foot, before wheeling his horse and leaving like a great wind. The Sergeant picked up the lance and looked at the Captain, he nodded at him with approval. "Well, I wouldn't have handled that the way you did, but you gave it that fighting Irish touch." Tom grinned. "Thank you sir, I take that as a compliment." The two walked down back to where the others were, and Brave Eagle spoke up. "You have spoken bravely for us, but we cannot hide in the shadow of your courage." His wife spoke up. "Please you must go now and leave us, for they will surely return, and with many warriors." The Sergeant-Major looked back as the war party left. "We can't outrun them sir, we'll have to make a stand against them." The Captain gave the men a contradictory look. "You know I can't order that." The Sergeant-Major looked back at the men, they seemed determined, they would go to hell and back together if they had to, they would fight, even if the Captain couldn't order it. He looked forward and faced the Captain. "Well we can volunteer..." he turned to the men. "... won't we boys!" The men cheered the Sergeant-Major, and then he turned to the Captain. "Looks like you've got your answer Captain." The Captain snickered. "Alright men, you've convinced me, now we have to figure out where to go." They all thought for a moment before the Captain got an idea. "San Juan De La Cruz, the old Spanish Mission." Sergeant Tyree nodded and pointed down the trail. "Sure, it's only about a mile." The Captain snapped his fingers and grinned. "We can make it there." He turned to Brave Eagle. "Brave Eagle, you and Quiet Sparrow can ride in the wagon with Tompkins." Quiet Sparrow shook her head. "Please, you have done so much already, if it is the will of the great spirit, then we do not fear death." Sergeant-Major Reynolds said something. "But the great spirit's will is to life Quiet Sparrow, of your child." Brave Eagle looked at the Sergeant. "You speak the truth." He turns to his wife. "What the great spirit gives, no man can take away." The Sergeant-Major gave the Captain the reins to his horse and they both mounted up. "Let's go then." Soon, the two got onto the wagon with the Christmas Tree, and they went riding towards the old mission.

The men rode like the devil to arrive at the Mission with time to spare, the twelve men, including Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Sergeant Quincannon, were posted on all sides of the Spanish Mission and looked as the Kiowas circled them, some dismounted whiles others were on their ponies waiting. The Sergeant quickly ran up to Captain York as they waited for the pending attack. "The men are in position sir." The Captain was looking through his field glasses and put them down "Good." The Sergeant looked down before looking back at the Captain. "Sir, is there any particular reason Black Cloud wants those two dead?" The Captain looked at the Sergeant-Major and nodded. "This is what Brave Eagle told me on the way here, apparently he was the son of the true chief and was meant to take his place when he died, now Black Cloud comes along in force and banishes him away. Then the Medicine man comes along and tells him of a dream that his son will be the true chief and take over." Thomas looked to his front and saw some dust being kicked up. "Huh, sounds like an old bible story if you ask me." The Captain nodded. "You better take your own position Sergeant-Major." Reynolds gave a quick nod. "Yes sir." The Sergeant-Major gave the Captain a two finger salute before going a few yards down the a wall and took cover by a small staircase. He passed Quincannon walking up to Podge. "Well Podge, I guess we're never going to have that Christmas Drink back at the fort together huh." Podge gave out a hearty chuckle. "Ah, no Sergeant, let's keep thinking in Santa Claus." The line Sergeant had a laugh with the other line Sergeant. Just then, an arrow pierced Podge through the chest and he fell to the floor. "OPEN FIRE!" Screamed the Captain.

The Kiowas had begun their attack, they rode their horses in a circle around the Mission, as the men fired on them with their Sharps Carbines, the men didn't waste a shot. Quincannon broke off the shaft of the arrow that was sticking in Podge's chest and fired on the Indians riding around the cavalrymen, he hit one and he tumbled off his horse. The Captain fired his Colt Revolver at the Kiowas and hit's at least three, and the Sergeant-Major, hit seven with the seven shots he had fired from his Sharps, as he was reloading, a arrow hit the wall behind him. "YOU DIRTY KIOWAS, YOU MISSED!" He laughed and fired another shot at the attackers.

The others fired on the Indians and sent them running, they then came again on foot, brandishing many different weapons, Bows and Arrows, Flintlock Muskets, and even Winchester Repeating Rifles. The men didn't dare waste one shot, they only fired when they had a sure target in their sights. The Kiowas attacking on foot were easier to hit than the ones on horseback, they made a beeline for the defence position of the troopers, once again they were repulsed. They continued their attacks again and again, and were constantly repulsed, but that didn't mean that the cavalrymen didn't take casualties. One trooper got grazed near his temple, and got blood in his left eye, but he was alive and still fighting. Two other men weren't as lucky, one hit right through the heart with a bullet, another with an arrow to the stomach. When the fighting ceased and there was a lull the Sergeant-Major walked up to Captain York, he told him of their own losses. "How many Sergeant-Major?" Thomas looked at the Captain with a straight face. "Two men dead, five wounded, three critically." The Captain sighed and tugged on the collar of his great coat. "I bet you never thought you'd be here on Christmas Eve." The Sergeant-Major chuckled. "No place I'd rather be, than with the boys of my Company sir." The Captain patted the Sergeant-Major on the shoulders. "That's the spirit." The two walked over to Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow. "Thank you for helping us, but we must go before more blood is spilled over us." Said Brave Eagle. "No Brave Eagle, every man here has chosen to stay, and we're not backing down." Quiet Sparrow spoke up. "Please, it will not save our lives for you to lose yours." The Sergeant-Major took off his Stetson and ruffled his hair. "Quiet Sparrow, I have feeling we'll all get out of this alive, now two get some rest."

The two walked over to Quincannon's post and checked on Podge, his wound had been treated and he would be fine. The men waited around in silence, Tom pulled out his harmonica and started to play Silent Night, he sang with the music, and the others joined.

Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright

Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child

Holy infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace

The Kiowas listened to the long knives sing, and they didn't understand why they were singing, so they decided to wait and listen.

Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight

Glories stream from heaven afar

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,

Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born

Silent night, holy night! Son of God love's pure light.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face With dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus Lord, at Thy birth, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth

Just then, a flaming Kiowa arrow hit the cross that stood over the Mission, the Indians were attacking again on foot, their chief was personally leading them in the attack. The Troopers retook their positions and opened fire once again on the attacking Indians, they opened fire once again kept the Kiowas at bay, one broke through where Quincannon was shooting, but ended up getting hit at point black range. They were soon repulsed again by the men of 'B' Company. But when one of the men went to check on Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow, they were gone, and the donkey too. "HEY CAPTAIN, BRAVE EAGLE AND QUIET SPARROW ARE GONE! THEY TOOK THEIR DONKEY AND LEFT!" All the men heard this, and didn't know what to say. "Will you look at that, they get up and leave, that's gratitude." Said Quincannon sarcastically, the Sergeant-Major looked at Quincannon with a straight face. "That's exactly what it was, instead of staying, they left to protect us." After he said that, Quincannon looked at him for a minute nodded in agreement, then they saw something that surprised them. "HEY CAPTAIN, BLACK CLOUD IS HOLDING A FLAG OF TRUCE!" The Captain quickly ran over and saw that the Sergeant-Major was right, Black Cloud had a white flag on his war lance, they wanted to talk. "I'll go down there, Reynolds you stay here and if I'm not back, your in command." The young NCO only had to nod, but as the Captain left the safety of the Mission, Sergeant-Major Reynolds gripped the scabbard of his saber out of nervousness and fear, the men watched and raised their guns in case this was a trick to draw out their commanding officer. "The sand is red with the blood of your warriors and mine." There was someone next to the chief, he appeared to be the Medicine Man. "Deliver the man and woman to us, and let this killing stop." Said the Medicine Man, the Captain merely looked straight at them. "The man and woman are no longer with us." Black Cloud threw down the lance in anger. "YOU SPEAK LIES!" The Captain looked at Black Cloud with a straight face. "It is not a lie, they left us, to keep us from harm." The Chief and Medicine Man sat there in the saddle. "When the sun rises, you will leave in peace, I will watch, but if we see the man and woman with you, we will come to the Fort of the long knives, and kill you all." The Captain simply turned around and walked away back to the Mission.

The Next Morning

The Troopers left the Mission and headed onto the fort, and under the eyes of the Kiowas were allowed to leave in peace, they did not see Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow with them. The Medicine Man spoke up to the Chief. "If the prophecy comes to pass, we follow you no more, for the gods have given us a true Chief." Black Cloud scowled at his Medicine Man. "SILENCE! I am the true Chief, I will find them before the prophecy is to come true, and destroy them." The Sergeant-Major could hear faintly what Black Cloud was saying and he was getting mad, on Christmas Day no less. "Now I know how George Washington felt when he gave up Fort Necessity to the French in 1754." The men galloped back to the fort as fast as they could, but they couldn't keep their minds off the two Kiowas that left them, to keep them alive.

The men were only a few miles from Fort Apache when Captain York called a halt to let the men and horses rest for a few minutes. When the Sergeant-Major dismounted, he pulled out a small box, when he opened it, he saw his Medal of Honor, the one he received from President Lincoln himself in the late summer of '63. He couldn't help but feel bad about letting Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow down, them having to leave to spare them from massacre, but what would happen to them, he didn't know and didn't care to think about it, but he couldn't keep it off his mind. He noticed that Captain York, Sergeant Quincannon, Sergeant Tyree, and Sergeant Podge were sitting down with him. "Still thinking about what happened back there?" Asked the Captain, Tom nodded. "There's nothing more we could have done, they wanted it this way." The Sergeant-Major got up and started to walk around. "But they did it for us, they did it to save us and the wounded, I wish we could repay the favor." Quincannon sighed. "We did our best Tom, there was nothing more you, or the rest of us could do." Thomas looked down at the ground and kicked a rock in frustration. "I wish we could have done more." The Captain nodded. "There is something else we could do Reynolds, we could pray." Soon the men mounted their horses and continued on towards Fort Apache, but as they rode, the Sergeant-Major said a prayer for Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow, wishing that they'll be safe.

At Dusk

The men arrived at the fort and took the tree into 'B' Troop's barracks and they put it up, they managed to make room for the refreshment table and the band. Corporal Krausemeier and the other Regimental Musicians had taken their places. The men were all wearing their blouses, even the Sergeant-Major who hated being out of his regular day to day uniform, a navy blue long sleeve shirt and sky blue pants with a yellow stripe running down the pant leg, and his black stetson with a yellow hat cord around it. Before the celebration began, he went up to the parapet over the main gate on the fort walls and watched out over the land and looked over to Dragoon Ridge, only a quarter mile from the fort. He also wondered about Brave Eagle and Quiet Sparrow, until he saw a silhouette of a man and a donkey, and he knew who it was. "CAPTAIN, IT'S BRAVE EAGLE AND QUIET SPARROW, THEY MADE IT HERE!" He turned to the sentries. "OPEN THE GATES!" The men quickly opened the gates and the Sergeant-Major and the Captain rushed over to the gates. "The gods have been good to us, but even now the pain in Quiet Sparrow grows." The Captain looked at Quiet Sparrow and saw that she was in pain, it looked like it was going to happen any minute. "We'll get the doctor and set up a place in the hospital." The two helped Quiet Sparrow off the donkey and helped her to the hospital, they immediately got Dr O'laughlin out of the party for this. But as soon as he got there, a sentry yelled out something which worried the the men in the hospital. "KIOWAS!" The Sergeant and Captain rushed towards the parapets above the main gate and and saw Black Cloud and his Medicine Man. "I warned you of this, we know they are with you, now we have come to fort of the long knives with many warriors." They looked around, and thought there to be at least 500 to 1000 warriors around them. But then, they heard crying, the crying of a baby. The Sergeant-Major looked down at Black Cloud and yelled the news. "You're too late, the prophecy has already been fulfilled." From 'B' Troop's barracks, the singing of Silent Night could be heard, the Kiowa Medicine Man stepped forward and spoke to both the Captain and Sergeant-Major as they men sang the soothing melody. The Medicine Man trotted forward because he heard the song. "This is the second time I have heard this song, what does it mean?" The Captain spoke up. "Today we celebrate the birth of our great chief, the chief of all chiefs, if you are willing to lay down your arms, then you may gaze upon your own chief." Many of the Indians put down their weapons and entered the Fort gates, even Black Cloud entered to see the baby, from where he stood, Thomas smiled. "Well sir, I think this is the best Christmas I've ever had. And I'm glad to be posted at Fort Apache, with the best group of men in the United States Cavalry." The two laughed and went to the Hospital to see the baby, and while they were there, they sang.

Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright

Round yon Virgin, Mother and infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight

Glories stream from heaven afar

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,

Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born

Silent night, holy night! Son of God love's pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

With dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus Lord, at Thy birth, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.


	11. Stolen Wagons and New Carbines

It was Mid-April of 1869 the past week, the men at Fort Apache were waiting for a wagon train of supplies to arrive, but they never received any word on the wagons or when they were too arrive. This was concerning Colonel Palmer, Captain York and even Sergeant-Major Reynolds, were the wagons attacked by Indians, or had they been asked for somewhere else, or were they simply lost on the trail trying to find the fort. The Colonel called an officer's meeting at the post Headquarters early that morning. "Gentlemen, I believe you all know why I called you here." The Officers all nodded, they knew about the late wagons. "Gentlemen, those wagons are five days overdue, I sent a detail of ten men from 'C' Troop to await the wagons at Twin Forks, but there's been nothing on them either, I fear the worst has happened gentlemen." Lieutenant Pennell, spoke up. "Well, what can Indians do with a few normal post provisions." The Colonel looked at the fresh Lieutenant, he had served with 'B' Troop for a while but was still quite green. "Lieutenant Pennell, you've been with us a short while, and haven't seen much action, but what those wagons were carrying was a bit more than a few post provisions." Captain Collingwood spoke up. "What were they carrying sir?" Captain Sam Collingwood was a veteran of the Indian Wars, and also served in the War Between the States, he was also the Post Adjutant and commander of A Company. "Sam, those wagons was carrying boxes carrying new Springfield Breech-loading Carbines, we have outdated Sharps Carbines here at the post, but these are brand new breech-loading carbines that use metal cartridges and no percussion caps, if the Apaches, or the Comanches, or any other tribe in the territory got their hands on them, well the consequences would be dire." The officers nodded and agreed that they needed to find the wagons. "Well, what'll we do Colonel?" The Colonel turned to Captain York. "Captain Collingwood, you will take 'A' Troop and proceed Southeast, you'll head for the border, if the wagons were attacked I want to get ahead of these hostiles before they get to the border. Captain York, you will take 'B' Troop and head to Twin Forks, see if you can find any sign of the wagons or the detachment sent to escort them here." The officer's saluted the Colonel and the Colonel returned it. "Dismissed Gentlemen." The officers straightened their hats and adjusted the suspenders as they left the Headquarters, as Captains Collingwood and York walked out, they started talking. "I just hope that the wagon train is just late, or got lost." Captain York turned to him. "Well Sam, finding lost wagons is what we get paid for, but be careful out there." Captain York put out his hand to shake it with Captain Collingwood. "You too Kirby." The two shook hands and went over to their respective troops. The Captain found the Sergeant-Major smoking his pipe while talking with the other Sergeants. "REYNOLDS!" The Sergeant-Major quickly looked over at his Company Commander who called over to him, he gripped his saber and ran over to the Captain. "Yes sir?" He gave his superior a salute and the Captain returned it. "I noticed you were talking to the Company Sergeants, but there's no sign of Mulcahy, O'Ryan, or Quincannon, where are they?" There was a short pause that to the Sergeant-Major felt like eternity as he put his thoughts into words. "Well, you see sir, I caught them having a nip after lights out last night sir, and well, I had them thrown into the Stockade sir." The Captain nodded. "I see, well Sergeant-Major, you'll have to get them out."Sergeant-Major Reynolds was surprised, he could not comprehend why the Captain wanted his friend, his drunken friends out of the Guardhouse. "May I ask why sir?" The Captain gave out a chuckle and patted Tom on the shoulder. "Well, we're going on a patrol to Twin Forks to look for a few Supply wagons and ten men from 'C' Troop, and we'll need every man available, so go get them out Sergeant, boots and saddles for every man in the troop in ten minutes." The Sergeant-Major gave a bit of a smirk and saluted the Captain. "Yes sir." The Sergeant crossed the parade ground and walked over to the wooden building with iron bars and went to Sergeant Podge who was the guard posted to the Stockade. "Podge." The line Sergeant with a clean shaven face that looked like a bulldog's stood at attention at the presence of the six foot Sergeant-Major. "Mornin Sarge." The Sergeant-Major looked over at the door and then back at the Sergeant. "Alright Podge, let the boys out." Sergeant Podge looked back at the door and then turned back to the Sergeant-Major. "Sarge, I can without complaining about letting out Mulcahy and O'Ryan, but do I have to let out that gorilla Quincannon?" The Sergeant-Major nodded. "Captain's orders, boots and saddles in a few minutes." Without another word, Podge got out the keys and unlocked the door. "ALRIGHT YOU THREE, GET YOUR UNIFORMS AND GEAR, BOOTS AND SADDLES IN EIGHT MINUTES!" After the 21 year old Senior Non Commissioned Officer left, the three Line Sergeants filed out and quickly cleaned up as best they could and got their gear together and formed with the rest of the Company.

The men were formed by Company in front of the Post Headquarters, both Captain York and Captain Collingwood were in front of their respective Company's as the Colonel mounted his horse and gave the two their final orders. "You know your orders Gentlemen, now take your men and proceed." Both the officers saluted the Colonel and turned to their respective Company's. "'A' Company, by two's, by the right flank, at a walk, HO!" "'B' Company, by two's, by the right flank, at a walk, HO!" 'A' Troop filed out the front gate, and 'B' Troop followed behind, the small squadron moved out of the for and the men talked as they rode. "I just can't understand it, those men in the Quartermaster Corps always lose their wagons carrying our supplies." Another trooper looked over at the other. "Vaness, if you could fight like you complain, we'd push the redskins into a corner by now." The two looked at each other and chuckled a bit.

The small Squadron moved southwest, but it was quiet, too quiet, and the men were getting jumpy, some checked their pistols, others simply pulled out their carbines from their saddles boots. The Sergeant-Major just looked over at some of the rocks and kept calm, Mulcahy, O'Ryan and Quincannon were behind him in the column wondering if there was something troubling him. Just then the column stopped, Captain Collingwood and Captain York talked at the front of the column. "Well Sam, I'll head North to Twin Forks, and you'll head south to the border, good luck." The two officers shook hands as they divided the force, A Company turned South towards the border, and 'B' Company turned North and headed for Twin Forks where the trail to Colorado and the Butterfield Stage route crossed over one another.

'B' Troop trotted down the trail for the Butterfield Stage route and had found nothing, no sign of horse tracks or any sign of life, but then they wouldn't have expected it, no Indian would come down that whites used. The column moved forward steadily with the Company Guidon waving in the breeze, but the men still felt uneasy, as if the Indians were going to come out of nowhere and attack, probably be massacred like the detachment and the men driving the supply wagons, if they were attacked. Captain turned to his Company adjutant and second in command Lieutenant Cohill. "Mr Cohill!" The Lieutenant galloped up to the Captain and saluted him. "Yes sir?" The Captain turned to his young protege. "Well son, were not far now, but I'm leaving you in command while I take twelve men and reconnoiter ahead, understood?" The young Lieutenant nodded. "Yes sir." The Captain turned to look at the men. "TROOP HALT!" The Captain raised his left hand straight up ordering the men to stop, he then turned around. "SERGEANT-MAJOR REYNOLDS, TO THE FRONT OF THE COLUMN!" At the sound of his name being called, the Sergeant-Major left his place as first to the front of the guidon and straight to the Captain. "Yes sir?" The Sergeant-Major saluted the Captain and he returned it. "Sergeant-Major, first twelve men forward at the gallop." The Sergeant-Major nodded and turned to call out to the Troop. "First twelve men forward at the gallop, Yo-Ho!" The first twelve men in the column moved forward quickly and the rest of the troop followed behind, one by one, the men in the small detachment drew their carbines as they galloped to Twin Forks, and when they arrived, they were in shock.

The bodies of the men were scattered everywhere, each man laid there across the trail, their uniforms taken and in nothing but their long johns, there was only one word to describe what the men were seeing, Massacre. But there was something strange that was instantly noticed by the Captain, the Sergeant-Major, and the rest of the men in the detachment, there were no arrows, and none of the scalps of the men were taken. Then they saw someone move slightly, both the Captain and Sergeant-Major rode over to the body, both of them dismounted and looked at the face of the trooper. It was Trooper Rafferty, a boy no more than 19 years old, he looked up at the two and spoke weakly. "C-Captain Y-York, sir?" The Sergeant-Major lifted the young soldier's head. "What happened here trooper?" Asked the Captain. "W-We were ambushed, they h-had us surrounded, we d-didn't have a c-chance." The Captain and Sergeant-Major looked at each other and the Sergeant-Major, he shook his head, a sign that Rafferty wasn't going to make it. "Who did this Rafferty, Apaches, Arapahos, Comanches?" Rafferty shook his head when the Captain listed off the tribes. "Renegades, b-bandits p-probably heading for the b-border." The two were shocked at what they heard, then they looked back to see the rest of the troop arriving, they then noticed that Rafferty was dead. "Sergeant, for a burial detail." The Captain looked down at the body of the young trooper. "Yes sir." He turned to see some of the troopers dismounting and getting shovels and pickaxes. "You know what you're volunteering for boys?" The men nodded. "Alright, wait for me to get my shovel and we'll get on with it." The men started to dig the graves of the men who fell there, both Lieutenant Cohill and Lieutenant Pennell were shocked at what they saw, the enlisted men were also shocked, including the veterans of the Civil War. The bodies were scattered and looted, leaving nothing but dead troopers in their underdrawers. The men dug the graves six feet deep and used the sabers of the men as headstones, they placed their hats on the sabers and said a few words. But then, they moved south, towards the border, to catch up with the men who did this.

Meanwhile

A few army wagons were in a small circle while a few men stood guard, but these men were not in uniform and weren't even in the army, the leader of these bandits was a man by the name of Jed McWilliams. He and his gang of cutthroats had managed to keep their ears on the telegraph wires listening when the guns and ammunition were coming through, the outlaws were planning on selling the weapons to a band of Comanches. His younger brother Charlie was worried that they army would come after them after this. "Jed, aren't we going a little far." Jed looked up at his brother. "What do you mean?" Charlie looked over at the wagons for a second, then back at his older brother. "The army will come after us after they find their wagons missing?" Jed looked up at his brother. "You know what was taken from us during the war, when those devil Yankees came marching through our home? Everything, the farm, ma and pa, and little sister Suzy." Charlie looked down at the ground, he knew what happened in Missouri during the raids and attacks by Kansas Jayhawkers and the Union Cavalry. "That don't make giving guns to redskins right." Jed just pulled out his Revolver and loaded it. "Well, I don't see any other way of getting back our 'assets' little brother." Charlie sighed and walked over to his brown mare and patted him on the nose, he wished that they didn't have to live the way they did. They were wanted in Missouri, Kansas, and Texas, now they were in Arizona, and this would bring the law from all over the country down around them.

Later

Captain York had sent a courier to Captain Collingwood and 'A' Troop, but for the sake of time, he went on following the wagon tracks with Sergeant Tyree taking the point, they followed the wagon tracks for twelve miles before they saw Sergeant Tyree gallop to the front of the column with great speed. He quickly galloped up to the Captain and saluted him, the Sergeant-Major and Bugler Derice was also there listening to what Tyree had to say. "Report Sergeant." The texas Sergeant looked at his commanding officer. "Well Captain, I spotted their camp, just a mile or two away, they have a few guard, but it's just bandits with pistols and a few horses, I think they might be waiting for something." The Captain looked forward and then back at the column. "How many of them are there?" Tyree "Six or seven sir, that's about all." The Captain pondered for a moment, the Sergeant-Major knew that the bandits were outnumbered, but then again they had the wagons with rifles and ammunition, and could easily knock off at least a dozen men by blowing up the wagons, the Captain called to Bugler Derice. "Bugler, sound Officers Call." As Derice blew 'Officers Call' Both Lieutenant Cohill and Lieutenant Pennell galloped to where the Captain was and were told of the situation. "Well gentlemen, we've found the wagons, but their in the hands of six or seven renegades. I want your opinions on what we can do." The Captain turned to the two Lieutenants. "Well?" Lieutenant Pennell was the first to open his mouth. "We should go after them now sir, we're in stronger numbers, we can get at them, and get the wagons back before sundown." When Lieutenant Pennell finished, Lieutenant Cohill spoke up. "Sir, we should wait until night, and catch them off guard, we can capture the whole lot of them and bring them back to the fort for trial." The Captain nodded, then he looked at the Sergeant-Major who looked down at his horse's mane. "Well Reynolds, you have an idea?" Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked up and thought for a moment, a fast lightning strike on the wagons, shocking them would have them in confusion and not give them a chance to respond, he remembered the three attributes of Cavalry: Firepower, Mobility, and Shock. "Sir, I think if we make a fast attack, they won't be able to comprehend what is happening and will run off at the sight of us, a good shock and they'll break and run." The Captain considered all three ideas from his trusted subordinates, but he finally goes with one. "We'll charge them down like the Sergeant-Major suggested, now gentlemen, let's make some time men." The Captain started to gallop forward and Derice and Sergeant-Major Reynolds followed behind, Lieutenant Cohill took command of the column and gave the command to advance. "FORWARD, HO!" The rest of the Troop followed at a gallop in the direction of their wagons to get them back.

The men soon were in position, and the were waiting for the word to charge down and take on the renegades, the men looked down at the wagons as the Captain gave the signal to draw their weapons. "Alright fellas, remember, pistols only." The Sergeant-Major gave a wave to the Captain, telling him the men were ready. "Bugler, sound the charge." Ordered the Captain, Derice blew his bugle long and loud with the tune of the charge.

The men charged down the wagons and when the bandits saw the men charging them down, they didn't know what to do, they got out their six-shooters and started shooting, but missed the advancing troopers. The men started shooting at the renegades and surrounding the wagons, two bandits raised their pistols to fire at the troopers, but were cut down by the Colt Revolvers of the cavalrymen, soon there were only two men left, one raised his hands while the other raised his pistol. The Sergeant-Major saw this and shot the shoulder of the Bandit.

The men pointed their guns at the two remaining, they both raised their hands and surrendered to the troopers, the Captain, his two junior officers and the Sergeant-Major dismounted and walked up to the two. One looked ashamed, the other looked angry and went for something in his boot, the four of them pulled out their pistols while the angry one pulled out a throwing knife, he was about to throw it at one of the four but just threw it down onto the ground and grumbled. "CORPORAL MARSHALL!" Yelled the Captain, the Corporal sat up on his horse. "Get some rope and tie their hands." The Corporal got some rope and jogged over to the two, he tied up their hands. The Captain and Sergeant-Major walked up to the two and knelt down in front of them. "What were you men planning to do with our army rifles." The angry one just stared at them, the other looked down and sighed. "We were gonna sell them to the Comanches." The Angry one looked over at the other with a shocked look. "QUIET CHARLIE!" Both Lieutenants Cohill and Pennell pulled out their colt revolvers and kept the man covered, the other continued on. "We stole the guns, to get buffalo hides to sell fur traders for some money, to get back on our feet." The Captain nodded and the Sergeant-Major looked blankly at him. "What are your names, your full names." The angry one at this point looked like a snarling dog, as the calmer one that was confessing, was legitimately upset, but would have to face the consequences of their actions. "My brother Jed, and I'm Charlie McWilliams." Both the Captain and Sergeant-Major looked at each other, the McWilliams brothers were Missouri Bushwhackers wanted, from St Louis, Missouri and Lawrence, Kansas, all the way to Brownsville, Texas and Tucson there in the Arizona Territory.

The two had their hands tied and put on horses, the men then started to ride north back to the fort with their prisoners in tow, but from the same set of rocks they watched the men who stole the wagons, several others watched, with warpaint on their faces. The men trotted north up the trail with Sergeant Tyree taking the point only a few feet ahead, but the men of the Troop had an eerie feeling crawl up their spines, as if they were being watched, but couldn't see who was watching them. One of the men noticed someone gallop onto a ridge and started to sing something, a trooper shouted. "CAPTAIN, ON THE RIDGE!" The men turned to look, and saw that the person singing was an Indian, specifically, a Comanche, just then, Tyree came galloping back to the column. "Report Sergeant." Said the Captain. "Well sir, behind that fella on the ridge, there's a full war party of at least two hundred, maybe even more than that." Just then, the Comanches appeared on the ridge and started chanting, the Captain shouted at the column for his two Lieutenants. "Lieutenant Cohill, Lieutenant Pennell, have the wagons form a barricade facing the Indians." Both Officers left the ranks to do as they were ordered, the Captain then turned to the Sergeant-Major. "Sergeant-Major, have the men dismount and distribute the new carbines, get behind the wagons." The Sergeant-Major saluted. "Yes sir." He turned to the men. "Alright you ornery saddle tramps, Dismount, and those carbines out!"

The men dismounted and got out the new Springfields, then the men got under, inside and behind the wagons for cover, and in between placed crates and wooden boxes for cover. They had the two ex-bushwhackers tied up under one of the wagons, they wouldn't dare give them guns, even if they were outnumbered. The Comanches just sat on their horses singing and chanting, the men were getting anxious, some of them didn't understand what was going on and what they were waiting for, Lieutenant Pennell tipped up the brim of his kepi and asked a question to a trooper. "What are they singing?" The trooper turned to the Lieutenant and answered. "Death chant Lieutenant, they always sing that before they go into battle." The Troop guidon bearer held the flag behind Captain York and Sergeant-Major Reynolds were waiting. The Sergeant-Major looked back at the guidon fluttering in the soft breeze and then back at the Indians. "What are they waiting for?" The Captain looked over at the Sergeant-Major. "Their waiting for their Chief to give them the word." The Captain then looked down the line of men, he then looked up at the ridge to see a small group of Comanches with eagle feather hats, marking them as chiefs move into the center of the long line along the ridge. "Alright men, at my command, fire by volley and reload as fast as you can." Sergeant-Major Reynolds looked up at the Captain with a surprised look on his face as he pulled back the hammer on his Springfield. "In volley sir?" The Captain rotated the cylinder of his Colt. "They'll try and draw our fire before we can reload, but with these new Springfields, we can reload three times faster than the Sharps." The Sergeant-Major nodded, and brought his Carbine to bear, many other troopers did the same. The Chief raised his right hand, and threw it down, signalling two waves of fifteen Comanches to attack.

The Comanche Braves moved down quickly, their ponies galloping as fast as possible, but when they got within less than three hundred yards. "FIRE!" The men all fired at once, hitting their targets, they quickly reloaded as the second wave was bearing down on them. "FIRE!" They fired once more, again hitting all the warriors at once, forcing the Comanches to fall dead on the dark orange ground. But the men were not without their own casualties, some of the Indians had managed to fire a few arrows at the troopers, three were dead and another four were wounded. The wounded were pulled out of their spots and put under some shade.

The chief raised his hand again, and brought it down the same way, another two waves of fifteen came down from the ridge whooping and hollering, trying to frighten the men into drawing a volley. But the men stood firm, they waited as they did before and waited for the word from the Captain, both Lieutenant Cohill and Lieutenant Pennell were shaking but held up their Colt Revolvers. Again they got within range, the men waited for the word to fire as they got closer, the Comanches screeched and before they managed to close in for the kill. "FIRE!" Repeated the Captain, the men fired on the Comanches once again and wiped out the third wave, they quickly reloaded and fired at the fourth wave doing the same. The men were not scared, nor were they taking pleasure in killing, but it was them or the Comanches.

This happened two more times when it suddenly stopped, then the Comanche Chief and the rest of his braves came down, the men got ready for one last fight, but it was different somehow this time. Before the Comanches reached the dismounted troopers, they stopped and dismounted, picking up the dead and mangled bodies of the dead braves. The men slowly but surely lowered their Carbines as the Indians picked up their dead, some took off their hats while others sat down and took a breath and sighed. Sergeant-Major Reynolds tipped up and hat and gave out a sigh of relief, yet of sorrow, he wondered about the widowed squaws of these braves, the mothers now without their sons, and the children with no fathers to care for them and guide them on the vast journey of life. "Quite a sight isn't it." The Sergeant-Major didn't look at the Captain, he just nodded and rested his arms on the wooden crates that he and the Captain had taken cover behind in the attack. "Yeah..." He was quiet for a moment, then he spoke again. "People say their devils but, they're just like us, just with different traditions and lifestyles, some whites follow the way of the Indian because that's how they want to live but, it doesn't make sense why people can't just accept people for their differences." The Captain slowly nodded in agreement. "Society his made up of hypocrites and people unwilling to try and understand someone Reynolds, that's just the way things are." The Sergeant-Major nodded, he then looked back at the guidon still fluttering in the wind, then over at his fellow troopers before resting his head on top of his arms. The Captain then heard one of the troopers call for them. "CAPTAIN YORK! IT'S ONE OF THE PRISONERS!" The Captain and Sergeant-Major ran over to where the two Missouri Bushwhackers were and saw that the one called 'Jed' had an arrow in his back and was dead, his brother looked down at him with tears in his eyes. The Captain patted the teary-eyed prisoner on the shoulder and then looked over at the Sergeant-Major. "Sergeant-Major, mount the men, we're moving on towards the fort." The Sergeant-Major saluted. "Yes, sir." The Captain returned the salute and walked off, the Sergeant-Major sighed and carried on, he saw in those bodies the bodies of men he knew in Virginia.


	12. Old Friend's and Old Stories

It was a hot summer day at Fort Apache and the men were going about their business as usual, despite the hot Arizona sun. There were replacements due in and Sergeant-Major Thomas Reynolds, along with Sergeant Mulcahy and Sergeant Quincannon were waiting at the train depot in Stepwood for them. The three of them were sitting on a small bench waiting for the train to pull in, as usual it was late. The Sergeant-Major had his hat over his face trying to keep off the sun. He then heard the light clatter of sabers jangling and boots squeaking. He didn't have to take off his hat to know what was going on. "If you three walk any further to that Saloon, I'll skin you men alive." He then heard the footsteps move back to their original spot next to the bench, then he heard the distinct sound of a whistle and faint chugging, and knew it was the train, he straightened his hat and looked at his watch, the train was early, only two hours late this time. The four Non-Commissioned Officers got up and walked onto the station platform. Several people got off and then came the new Troopers, they lined up on the platform, the Sergeant-Major walked up to the men as they lined up and stood at attention. "My name is Sergeant-Major Reynolds, I'm here to get you all to Fort Apache, post of the Second United States Cavalry." He pulled out a piece of paper that was in his pocket. "When I call out your name, you answer by saying 'Present.' Trooper Gerald Douglas!" One of the troopers stood up even straighter than they already had. "Present!" This trooper looked to be in his mid twenties, if not younger, with a clean face with no hair or blemishes but like every other green trooper, they would be made into frontier soldiers. "Trooper Harold Coleman!" The trooper answered. "Present!" A little older than the first and he had noticed a wedding ring on his finger, he probably had kids too, training at Jefferson Barracks in Missouri was good and all, but in order to learn to fight on the frontier, you had to see action on the frontier. "Trooper Hans Weber!" The Sergeant-Major heard heels click. "Present!" Noticeably german, with a long mustache that ran in a curl from one cheek to the other, they had their fair share of German immigrants on the post, one more wouldn't do any harm. "Trooper Harlan Shephard!" The recruit responded. "Present!" A Southerner, most likely from either Georgia or Alabama from his accent, had a mustache as well, but to appeared similar to the one General Burnside's, the four troopers stood at attention, the young Sergeant-Major put the paper back in his pocket and put on a small grin. "Now let me be the first to say that we can really use you men, you'll be asked a lot of in this Regiment, but if you do your jobs, you'll do fine." The eight Cavalrymen walked off the platform and found eight mounts in front of the Station, the Sergeant-Major then turned to the four new men. "You men can ride, can you? Shephard spoke up. "We joined the Cavalry, didn't we?" For a moment, it was as if time stopped, but then a small grin appeared on the Tom Reynolds' face, he waved over at Trooper Shepherd and the two walked away from the other troopers. "You know, I think you've been in the cavalry before this hitch in the service, where was it, Virginia with JEB Stuart, or Tennessee with Bedford Forrest?" Shephard took a bit of his tobacco chaw before answering. "I was in the army before the war, Second Dragoons, this very regiment before they officially changed it to the Second Cavalry, at Fort Clark, with your Pappy." Tom instantly looked at Shephard when he mentioned his father, how did he who he was or who his father was? "How do you know who my Father was, and what was your relationship with him?" Trooper Shepherd gave out a small chuckle, and looked at the Sergeant-Major. "He and I were the best of friends, he saved my life more times than one, and he used to talk a lot about you and your little brother a whole lot." Thomas looked down at the mention of his brother, he hadn't gotten a letter from him in months, then he saw that Shephard had a letter in his hands and it was addressed to him. "A young Second Lieutenant gave me this and asked if I could give it to you." The Sergeant-Major smiled as he took the letter he looked it over and it was certainly was from his brother Michael. "Thanks." He looked up at the sky and then pulled out his watch. "We better get going if we want to get to Fort Apache by dark." The two walked back over to the others and got their horses. "Forward, Ho!" The veterans and replacements trotted out of the town and onto the fort, while on their way, some of the new troopers wanted to know what it would be like on a post in the southwest. They were told by the four Sergeants that it wasn't like life on a post back east like at Fortress Monroe in Virginia, or Fort McHenry in Maryland. They had the bigger chance of seeing combat and losing their hair.

As they continued on, Sergeant-Major Reynolds and Trooper Shepherd started to talk about the times before the war, the Sergeant-Major life at home in Brooklyn, New York and Shepherd at Fork Clark with the Sergeant-Major's father. "Say, did your pappy ever tell you about our patrol before we, parted ways?" The Sergeant-Major looked at Sheppard and shook his head. "It's quite a story if you'd like to hear it sometime." Tom smiled. "We've got some time now." Shephard gave out a small yet hearty laugh and began.

* * *

In Texas in February of 1861 were the men of the Second Dragoons, just recently redesignated the Second Cavalry at Fort Clark, some men were preparing to leave the fort for another routine patrol. But things were uneasy, with some of the southern states seceding from the Union, the men were less focused on fighting the Indians, and more focused and trying to start fighting each other. The men were putting their saddles on their mounts in preparation to leave on the patrol to go after Comanches raiding farms and ranches, others cleaned their Carbines, the men from both North and South looked at each other with a deep sense of loathing. One Sergeant-Major with a Hardee Hat had his carbine in hand and was walking up to a Corporal with a kepi. "Harlan, what the devil are you doing?" The Corporal looked up at his superior and friend and smiled. "Just cleaning my rifle Sean, I'm going with you on that Patrol." The middle-aged Sergeant-Major sighed and gave a bit of a chuckle. "Well Harlan, I don't know if that's a good idea." The Corporal looked up at the Sergeant-Major and gave him a hard glare. "Sergeant-Major, we've been friends since we've got here, I'm going on this patrol, whether you like it or not." The Sergeant looked down and smirked, he helped his friend off his seat and the two walked over to the stables to get their horses.

Some of the men looked at the two, the Southerners looked at the Northern Sergeant-Major, and the Northerners looked at the Southern Corporal. When the two get to the stables they saw two men fighting in the stables. One trooper threw a right hook at the other, but they managed to dodge it and give them a powerful punch in the stomach, launching the trooper into a pile of hay, the other tackled him and they both fought in the hay trying to choke each other and gouge each other's eyes out. The two Non-Commissioned Officers quickly ran over to the two men fighting and quickly got them separated, but they were kicking and trying to hit each other even after being separated. "ALRIGHT, THE BOTH OF YOU'S!" The two quickly stopped struggling after the booming voice of the Sergeant-Major was heard. "What started this?" There was silence, until the trooper the Sergeant-Major was holding spoke up. "The south Sarge, like always." The Southerner that was held by Corporal Harlan started to struggle again. "AND WE'LL FINISH IT!" The two Non-Commissioned officers held the two back again as they attempted to get free, but they were held firm by the two. "ALRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" The two stopped once again, paralyzed in fear of the Corporal as well as the Sergeant-Major. "Now the two of you's get out of here, and if this happens again, I'll tear you's limb from limb." The two brawlers were let go and then they both quickly ran out of the stables. The two shook their heads at the sight, but that was only one of the many ways men were showing their true colors for either the Union or the newly formed Confederacy.

The two friends saddled their horses and formed up the a detachment of twenty others by the fort gates, First Lieutenant Ben Chalmers was at the front, the Sergeant-Major rode up to the Lieutenant. "Are we ready Sergeant-Major?" The middle aged soldier looked over at the young yet experience Lieutenant. "Sir, that we are." The Lieutenant nodded, and they detachment rode out of the fort to the south towards the Rio Grande.

The men continued south, the Comanches were known for raiding into Mexico and burning settlements to the ground, taking captives, and taking cattle and other supplies. The men said nothing as they rode, except the Northern Sergeant-Major and Southern Corporal, but men from north and south commented on the two being friends. "The fact that the Sarge thinks that White Trash Southerner will be there for him, he's dead wrong." Said a trooper named McCall under his breath, the southerners were also talking. "That Yankee, thinking that he can just befriend one of our kind, we'll show that nigger-loving Yank a thing or two." Said a private named Chadwick. Both NCO's heard what the men from the north and south were saying, but simply ignored it as more talk. It bothered the both of them that their brothers in arms were mad at each other because they were from different states and regions of the country that their forefathers fought so hard to establish. Now splitting apart because of the election of a president that could save this nation, but some who believed would destroy it.

The detachment soon entered a pass where the cliffs were about ten to fourteen feet high, a perfect spot for ambush, the men trotted slowly through the pass, they kept their carbines handy in case something did happen. The men looked up and watched the heights for any movement, but there was none to be seen, the men found it strange. Until rocks started to fall right on top of them from the cliffs, it was then that the Comanches showed their faces as they launched boulders onto the unsuspecting Cavalrymen. As the rocks fell around them, some of the men were hit square in the face and killed by the impact, other rocks landed around the men and scared their horses and caused the troopers to be bucked off and dragged with their feet stuck in their stirrups. The men lucky enough to not be under the bombardment of the boulders, managed to raise their carbines and open fire. Some of the Comanches were hit and fell right where the cavalrymen were, as soon as they were starting to take fire, they began to make a run for it on their ponies. The troopers ceased their fire and let the Indians get away, the men then decided to return to the fort, with a loss of a third of their number and severely wounded were in need of immediate care. Their would not be a pursuit, they made some travois' for the wounded men would couldn't ride. Lieutenant Chalmers rode up to the Sergeant-Major, who was helping some of the wounded men. "What a waste, these poor young men." Said the Sergeant-Major, Lieutenant Chalmers looked down and nodded in agreement. "Once the wounded are loaded up, we're returning to the fort." The men got the wounded together and had started back for the fort.

Three Days Later

Early that morning, a courier came with a message that Texas had seceded, meaning that all the troopers loyal to the Union were to head for the Gulf and get on ships to head back north. The Southern troops cheered when they heard the news and stripped off the blue uniforms and grabbed the weapons as well as ammunition and most of the provisions, leaving enough for the men leaving the fort to travel south to the gulf. As the Union Bugler played the tune near the flagpole as the colors were lowered, the Union men saluting the flag as the southerners stood there with their carbines on the shoulders and some aiming at the Northern troopers, that just a few minutes ago were their comrades in arms. "ALL OFFICERS AND ENLISTED PERSONNEL LOYAL TO THE UNION, PREPARE TO MOVE OUT WITHIN THE QUARTER HOUR!" Shouted a northern Captain As the northern cavalrymen gathered their belongings and what weapons and ammunition the Southerners allowed them to carry, Corporal Shephard, still in his Union Blue uniform, walked into the barracks to see his friend, the Irish Sergeant-Major packing his things. The two looked at each other, yet they didn't see an enemy, they saw a friend that was being driven away because of politics. "I honestly can't believe that this is really happening." Said Shephard, the Sergeant-Major looked at his friend. "It seems like it's just a horrible dream, a horrible dream you can't wake up from." The middle-aged Sergeant-Major nodded, he took off his Hardee hat and brushed his hand through his hair. "I couldn't agree more, and I have to help Captain Wayne and Lieutenant Chalmers lead the Union Contingent to the Gulf, I just wish it hadn't come to this." Harlan slammed his hand down and raised his voice. "Suddenly we're on different sides, because the North and South can't compromise! Damn politicians." He shook his head and threw his kepi across the room, burying his face in his hands. The Sergeant-Major threw the last of his possessions into his saddle bags and stood up from his bunk, he spoke up. "It makes no sense does it, we've shed blood together, eaten the same rotten food together, we've been closer than brothers and now I'm supposed to look at you and see an enemy. Well, I can't do that, not now, not in a million years." The two stood directly in front of each other and gave one another an embrace, the two hugged for about two minutes, before patting each other on the shoulders. "You take care of yourself Sean." The Sergeant-Major cracked a smile. "You too, or I'll have your hide Corporal." Now the Corporal cracked a smile. "Let me help you with your things." Corporal Shephard was about to grab the Sergeant-Major's saddle bags when he was stopped. "You better let me go alone, half the men are already saddled, the other half is capable of anything." The Corporal nodded. "Especially with men like McCall and Chadwick." The two laughed one more time, before shaking hands.

The Sergeant-Major grabbed his things and walked out of the barracks, under the observations of the southerners, Sergeant-Major Sean Reynolds mounted his dark gray mare and formed up with the rest of the column of union men. As he was positioning himself behind the officers and the front of the column, he heard the secessionist troopers yell obscenities at them, calling them 'dirty rotten Yankees' and 'Nigger loving sons of bitches'. Soon after the Sergeant-Major mounted, Corporal Shephard walked out of the barracks and walked over to the column. The Corporal walked out of the barracks and over to Trooper McCall to say something before the Union troopers left, he went over to him and spoke to the Union trooper. "McCall, I'll never forget the day you killed the Comanche, you probably saved my scalp,I'm grateful." The Corporal put out his hand to shake it with the trooper, but McCall just spat out his chaw of tobacco. "It's funny, now I think I should have let him have it." The men on both sides started to murmur about the comment, but Shephard remained calm. "Well I'm sorry you feel that way." He started to walk away when McCall opened his mouth again. "BECAUSE ANY MAN THAT STAYS IS A STINKING YELLOW-COWARD TRAITOR THAT SHOULD BE HANGED BY HIS THUMBS!" The post went silent, Corporal Shephard turned around slowly. "What did you say?!" McCall gave a devious smirk. "I said, that if you stay your a damn stinking traitor." Shepherd took off his saber and let it drop to the ground. "I don't let anyone call me a traitor, DISMOUNT RIGHT NOW!" McCall gripped the handle of his saber. "You go to HELL." He drew his saber and immediately began to slash at Shephard, some of the Southerners cocked their guns and the mounted Union men got their pistols, until the Captain named Wayne called out. "HOLD IT, let them fight on their own." The men didn't fire but they kept their guns handy.

McCall attempted to slash at Shephard again, but Harlan managed to grad McCall's arm and pull him down off his horse and force him to drop his saber. Shepherd pinned McCall to the ground and held him there until he was kicked off and tumbled in the dirt, he immediately got back up when McCall gave him a right jab in the jaw. He was about to hit Shephard again when he ducked and gave McCall a taste of his own medicine, with a right hook, then a left hook, then a jab right below the chin, knocking McCall off his feet and onto the ground, where Shephard placed his foot on his chest in victory. He looked at the men, both north and south. "IF ANYONE, CALLS ME A TRAITOR, I SWEAR I'LL KILL HIM!" The men watched as the ex-Corporal got off of McCall and walked back into the barracks.

Two Union troopers helped up McCall and helped him back onto his horse, once the men were all mounted again, the Captain looked ahead and called up the Sergeant-Major. "A war could have started right here and now." The Sergeant-Major nodded. "Yes, but thank the lord it didn't." The Captain looked at the loyal NCO and looked ahead of him, it would be a long ride south to the ships waiting for them, Captain Wayne raised his right hand and gave the order. "FORWARD, HO!" The moved out in a column of twos, with two supply wagons following the men out of the fort and towards the Gulf of Mexico. War might have not erupted then, but in April of 1861 in Charleston, South Carolina, it would.

* * *

"That's about it I guess." Said Trooper Shephard, the detail had been moving steadily and without any interference, and Sergeant-Major Thomas Reynolds had listened attentively as the old soldier told the story of them before the war. "It's a shame that a war can split up friends some politicians say they're on different sides." Trooper Shephard nodded. "Well, the war's over now, say, what's your pappy doing these days anyway." The Sergeant-Major gave a sharp look at Sheppard and realized he didn't know. "He was killed at Fredericksburg, on Marye's Heights." Sheppard was shocked to hear, proving the Sergeant-Major's theory that he didn't know. "I'm sorry, I truly am, you must've been heartbroken, but what about your mother." That was another touchy subject, he didn't talk about to anyone, but it seemed that since Shephard was as a brother to his father, he deserved to know. "She died in the Draft Riots in New York, just after the Battle of Gettysburg in '63." Shepherd looked down, he couldn't say a word, it was one thing to lose a family member in a war, but it's another when a family member is killed in a riot that certainly didn't involve them. The journey was silent the rest of the way as they reached the fort.

Later

The young Sergeant-Major was made 'Sergeant of the Guard' that night, and just before he made his rounds to the guard posts around the fort, he read the letter sent by his brother.

Dear Nat

I hope this letter finds you well as you hear the amazing news I am about to share with you, I just received my assignment to a Regiment in the North, I'm now a Second Lieutenant in the Seventh Cavalry, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel George A Custer. By the time you get this, I will be at Fort Lincoln in the Dakota territory, I finally get to show those Red Devils what for, I must close as my stagecoach will be leaving soon, as there is no railroad to the Dakotas.

Best Wishes, Mickey.

He could not believe what he had read, he had gotten his assignment in the 7th Cavalry, he was both proud and devastated, he was proud that he got his assignment, but devastated it was with Custer. The Sergeant-Major had served under Custer before, and knew he was a flamboyant, glory-hunting, and exuberant personality, caring more about his personal appearance than the welfare of his men. He got up, grabbed his carbine, and made his rounds around the fort, with a lot on his mind.


	13. Memories of Bull Run

It was July 21st 1867, the American Civil War had ended two years prior, and today was the anniversary of the 1st Battle of Bull Run, the men at Fort Apache had the colors at half-mast in remembrance of the men on both sides who had fallen during that fight. Sergeant-Major Reynolds was called into 'B' Troop's orderly room to assist him with the muster for the Paradise River Patrol. He knocked on the Captain's door and waited for a response, and eventually got it. "Come in." He walked in and placed his black stetson on his desk, which was distinct from the white stetsons and kepis worn by the other men over the post. "Good Morning Captain." Said the Sergeant-Major as he walked in, the Captain looked up and smiled as he sipped his coffee. "Morning Sergeant-Major, coffee?" He gestured over to the coffee pot with his free hand, the Sergeant-Major nodded, grabbed a tin cup and poured the steaming black liquid into the cup and took a sip. It was hot and bitter but it was tolerable, he looked over at the small calendar hung by the stove and saw it was the 21st, he remembered what happened six years prior, when he had just joined the army. "You know something Captain, it's funny, I merely just stood there and fired a few shots from a pistol and they awarded me with a silver pistol after Bull Run." The Captain looked up at the Sergeant-Major. "You, were at Bull Run, I thought you joined up after the battle." The Sergeant-Major shook his head. "No sir, I joined after the first shots were fired, before the President's call for Volunteers, so I could join the Regulars and be in this Regiment, sometimes I look back on what happened six years ago today."

* * *

It was the night of July 20th, 1861, the men of 'G' Company of the Second United States Cavalry was encamped near Centreville, Virginia. An officer had just ridden into camp and went straight to a building commandeered for the officers barracks for the United States Cavalry Battalion under the command of Major Innis N Palmer. Some of the Non-Commissioned Officers were sitting around the campfire when the officer rode into camp. The men all wore Hardee Hats and Shell Jackets with metal epaulets "Looks like another officer has decided to join us on our endeavor to squash the rebels." A First-Sergeant, named Larson sat down with a cigar between his teeth playing poker with the line Sergeants. "I bet when we come down on those secessionists they'll just run straight home." Sergeant Dent and the others laughed at his little joke when a Corporal walked over. "Well, if it isn't our favorite Guidon Bearer, how are you Reynolds?" Asked the First-Sergeant, the Corporal nodded, he felt alright, it didn't help that even the men in the regular army were boasting about turning the Rebels back and marching straight into Richmond without a fight. "I'm fine Sarge, just a bit on edge for tomorrow, I hear we're moving out at Four in the morning." The First Sergeant grinned and gave a hearty chuckle. "Good, then we'll have them on the run by Four in the afternoon." He patted the back of the eighteen year old Corporal before disappearing into a tent. The young Irish-American teenager sat by the fire and thought about tomorrow, he could be killed, a lot of men could be killed, they weren't ready, they weren't trained enough, yet it all came back to one thought. "Looks like we'll have to wait and see." He shook his head and took off his Hardee hat, and walked to his tent, as the bugler came out to play tattoo. As the call sounded over the camp, the Corporal drifted off to sleep, but before letting his tired eyes close, he gave a silent prayer for himself, his Company, and his father who's Regiment would be in the fight tomorrow.

The Next Morning

Reveille was heard throughout the camp, the men were soon up and striking the tents, they would be marching on Manassas Junction and attack the Rebels under PGT Beauregard. The men were rolling up their bedrolls, pulling on their shell jackets, and saddling their horses, the men were forming up by Company, and Company G was already formed and waiting for their commanding officer. Soon he appeared in a slouch hat and officer's frock coat with a satchel over one shoulder crossing his chest to his hip, walking over to his mount. First-Sergeant Larson walked over to Corporal Reynolds with the reins of his horse in hand as they were making final preparations to move out. "I just spoke with our new commanding officer, his name's Custer, and he only graduated from West Point less than a month ago, he's got high hopes of making Major before the war ends." The Corporal nodded and put his left foot in the stirrup and mounted his horse with the guidon flag pole in his right hand, the men then saw Lieutenant Custer and another Lieutenant named Baxter trotted past the men talking. "Hope the lord forgives us for fighting on Sunday." Lieutenant Custer looked at him. "As long as we're on his side." Just then, Major Palmer passed the two junior officers. "Let's move'em out Lieutenant." Lieutenant Custer turned to his new command and gave the order. "Troopers, mount up, let's get going." The men were soon mounted and formed for their march south to meet the Southern Rebels in battle.

On their way south, they saw men marching and waving at the civilians that had come out to see the men whip the Rebels. The men of 'G' Troop also noticed several people and carriages just a small distance from a river called Bull Run. Was east of a stone bridge and ordered to move to support an Artillery Battery under Captain Charles Griffin, they were passing by a small ford named Blackburn's Ford where they found a company of Volunteers in front of a rail fence, with a Rebel Company forming several yards in front of them. From their flag, they were a South Carolina Company, probably from the Palmetto Guards, they formed into a double-ranked, line of battle. The Union officer, a Lieutenant, in charge of the Infantry Company close to the fence soon moved his men forward to take cover. "Forward, MARCH!" The men knelt and stood in a double ranked line and aimed their weapons at the Rebels as they did the same. "Take aim, FIRE!"

The rear rank of the Rebels fired in volley as the Union troops were firing at will, the Rebel troops began to drop, and soon were ordered at Charge Bayonets. The men knew what would come next, and the Company of Rebels charged the position of the Union troops as they kept firing on them. There was one Confederate officer who was mounted on a horse leading his men forward who was quickly shot of his horse and killed upon impact of the bullet. Even after the officer was killed the men kept moving forward, but each foot of ground gained by the Rebels came the price of their own lives. The Rebel color bearer fell and a soldier right behind him picked it up and carried on. He lead the men forward but continued to be cut down by the whizzing bullets of the Union muskets, soon, he was within a few yards of the Union position, yet there was no one behind him. The young soldier carrying the Confederate Colors soon saw that he was alone, the Union men then began to cheer the Rebel for his courage, some of the cavalrymen cheered as well, except Corporal Reynolds. He could understand that the soldier had fought courageously, but he was still the enemy. Maj Palmer soon rode up to Lieutenant Custer and the rest of the Troop to see what the commotion was all about.: "What's going on Custer?" The Blonde Second Lieutenant pointed at the Rebel Color Bearer. "That Reb sir, they're cheering his bravery." The men continued to cheer the Rebel, and the young Corporal couldn't help but feel they were being extremely foolish, so he pulled out his revolver and made sure it was loaded.

The Rebel soldier was about to run back towards his lines when the sound of a gunshot echoed over the silent field strewn with bodies of men in gray. The men looked in the direction of the gunshot and saw a smoking pistol in the hands of Corporal Reynolds, the Company Guidon bearer. He had shot the Rebel soldier.

He then put his gun back in his holster and noticed everyone staring at him, he looked at the Major who nodded at him, but everyone else appeared to be in shock of his action, they seemed shocked, as if he had committed murder in broad daylight to the Governor of the State of New York. He didn't understand, the man he killed was the enemy, he might have been brave but he was still the enemy. The Major galloped past the cavalrymen to check on the rest of the Battalion, the men then went back to their business and the cavalrymen continued on. The Corporal thought he had done the right thing, but he couldn't help but feel different, and not the good kind.

They continued on, and could soon hear the firing of cannon from a place called 'Henry Hill' where Captain Griffin's guns would be and would need support from the Cavalry. They soon were just in a tree line when they saw a small battery of artillery being torn apart, their guns and respective crews being launched into the air, their battery horse neighing and whimpering from the fire of the guns. Soon, on the Confederate right, a Regiment of Virginia Militia came out of the woods and was marching on the flank of the artillery. Lieutenant Custer saw this and ordered his men forward, the First Sergeant thought it was insane but complied, the men galloped forward, Corporal Reynolds holding the guidon with the greatest strength as the his fellow cavalrymen with saber and pistol moved toward decimated battery of guns to ensure they were not captured by the Rebels. They stopped right in front of the guns, as the artillerymen were trying to reload and fire, but it was now quiet again. The Virginia Infantry were reloading their muskets, but to the right of the Union men, they heard a bugle, and a slight thundering sound. The men looked and saw that it was Confederate Cavalry bearing down on them, a full regiment, it would have been foolish to stand and fight them, so without even being ordered, the men of 'G' Company moved to the rear at the gallop, the Confederate Regiment following close behind, Lieutenant Custer making sure the men kept going until the Rebs gave up the pursuit. They had run for a quarter of a mile before they realized the Rebs turned back, soon a soldier on a horse rode in their direction, he appeared to be a Medical Steward on a horse moving north quickly. He galloped up to the Lieutenant and saluted him, the Lieutenant soon returned it and the Medical Steward spoke up. "Sir, please excuse me sir, but are you Lieutenant Custer?" The Lieutenant nodded. "Oh, well, your Squadron commander Captain Sharp told me to find you on my way north to the civilians having their picnic to get out of here." The ears of the men perked up, what was happening, did they win the battle. "He's ordering you to retreat on Centreville." Custer was confused, why did they get orders to retreat. "What's happened?" The Steward panted and caught his breath. "Well sir, with all due respect, all hell is breaking loose down there, we're trying to load the men on the wagons and run for home, they're whipping us." The First-Sergeant spoke up, with concern and slight anger on his face. "How bad is it?" The Medical Steward looked at the First-Sergeant. "It's over Sergeant, we can't hold them anywhere." He saluted the Lieutenant and rode off, the men then soon started to head in the direction of Centreville, when they came across a bridge where men from the Infantry and Artillery were running away in a disorganized rout.

Lieutenant Custer pulled out a pair of field glasses to see a Company of Cavalry move toward the bridge, and some infantrymen still had not gotten across. The Lieutenant turned to his men and gave an order. "Dismount, prepare to fight on foot!" The men then dismounted, every fourth man in the Troop to hold the horses of three others, Corporal Reynolds was among the men to dismount, holding the guidon with both hands. The men got their carbines and waited for the order to advance, Lieutenant Custer had out his saber and his pistol and raised the sword high to guide the other men. "SKIRMISHERS, GUIDE CENTER, FORWARD!"

The men ran down the hill as some cavalrymen, both mounted and dismounted ran over the bridge, one being Captain Sharp, the Squadron commander. He galloped up towards 'G' Troop and up towards Lieutenant Custer. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HER CUSTER, YOU HAD ORDERS TO RETREAT ON CENTREVILLE!" Custer pointed at the bridge. "I'm gonna hold that bridge until the Infantry get across." The Captain looked down disapprovingly with a hint of anger. "YOU HAD YOUR ORDERS." He turned to the dismounted troopers. " 'G' TROOP, PREPARE TO RETIRE!" The men were about to head back up when they heard the Lieutenant's booming voice. "AS YOU WERE 'G' TROOP!" They then knelt with their carbines in hand and Captain Sharp looked even more angry with Custer. "I'M IN COMMAND HERE Custer, JUST AS LONG AS I CAN STAND!" Custer put his pistol in the same hand as his saber, and gripped the barrel of his revolver. "THAT SUITS ME!" He struck Sharp and knocked him out, he then stood straight and pointed his saber towards the enemy. "COME ON MEN, LET'S TAKE THAT BRIDGE!"

The men advanced and knelt behind a wooden rail fence and aimed at the Rebel Cavalrymen as they galloped up to the foot of the bridge. Lieutenant Custer raised his saber high and the men waited for the word to open up. "READY, AIM, FIRE!" Shouted the young second Lieutenant, the men fired on the Rebs as they were about to cross the bridge, and kept firing until the rebs were forced them back.

Three Rebs were shot off their horses and laid dead at the foot of the bridge, the men soon advance over the bridge to drive them off the field. The Confederate Cavalrymen soon dismounted and headed for cover as the Union men hit the dirt and began to fire on them once more, one man standing with a pistol and guidon in hand. The Corporal stood up straight with his colt revolver in his right hand, the guidon in his left, he kept firing and hit at least two more Rebels, He pulled back the hammer of his pistol again and fired once more. Then heard someone shouting at him, he couldn't tell who it was and could barely hear over the gunfire, he soon clearly heard who was talking. "REYNOLDS!" Corporal Reynolds turned his head and faced the First-Sergeant. "Reynolds, get down before you get killed!"

The Corporal looked back at the Rebs and then over to the line of men with the Lieutenant, in a familiar fashion he again raised his saber and shouted at the men. "READY, AIM, FIRE!" The men fired again at the Rebs and saw they were starting to break off and begin to run, the men continuously traded shots until the decisive move had to be made. Lieutenant Custer figured in following up the attack and keeping the pressure up and drive back the Rebels. The Rebels mounted their horses and made a run back towards the Confederate lines.

The men moved forward and began have the Rebs crumble and rout right in front of them, the Cavalrymen stayed right on their heels and chased them off the field before they turned around, mounted their horses and headed back towards Washington. The Regulars and the Volunteers marched back and prepared themselves for a blow that would never come.

On the way back, Corporal Reynolds continuously thought back to what happened back at the creek and how he stood there firing, he didn't lay down on the ground, he stood straight up, yet no one hit him. It was either blind luck, or the good lord was looking down at him that day, either way, it was his baptism of blood.

* * *

"After the battle, I was cited for bravery under fire and they gave me my silver colt, I never forgot that Johnny carrying that flag." Captain York stood up and walked over to the Sergeant-Major. "It was a tough job, and you and a few others were right about that not being a three month small rebellion, we all had tough jobs to do back then." A slightly painful memory came to the Captain's mind, but he quickly brushed it off. "Well then, let's get working." The Sergeant-Major took one more swig of the coffee and sat down at his desk that was perpendicular to the Captain's. "Right sir." He looked down at the papers and began to sign off on requisitions and review the duty roster for 'B' Troop, he was fairly comfortable, but he would rather be surrounded by a war party of Apaches than be stuck in an office, then he thought of those lulls in Virginia near Fairfax Courthouse, then shook the thoughts of the past out of his head.


End file.
